First
by gethsemane342
Summary: It's the first ever Hunger Games. And what happens when you place an optimist who doesn't know how to shut up in them? Apart from all the deaths you get in the Hunger Games? Well, why don't you find out?
1. Be Serious

**Disclaimer:** I do not own The Hunger Games in any shape or form.

Geth342: Well, this is the first chapter of my story about the first ever Hunger Games. I hope it's somewhat decent. If you want me to continue, updates will be every 10 days hopefully so the next one would be 8th May. Hope you enjoy.

First

1) Be Serious

Even the name is confusing. The Hunger Games. I don't know where they've got it from. Is it hunger because they can starve us? Hunger to remind us of the Dark Days? Or is it to do with the Games themselves?

As far as I can tell, the only rule of these Games is that the last person standing will win. I know hunger can kill you but I really don't think that they're going to make all of Panem watch how quickly twenty-three kids can starve to death. If they wanted to do that, they could just film a poorer district, like District 12.

No, I really don't get it.

That makes me think I've missed something – the rules seem almost too simple. Twenty-four kids, picked from glass bowls. One arena. Only one person can live. I must be missing something. Maybe they have challenges for each 'tribute' or you can pay your way out? I don't know. Maybe the idea itself is horrible enough.

The one thing I definitely don't understand, though, is why they're punishing us teenagers. It was the adults – especially from District Thirteen – who rebelled. Not us. Not really. My family didn't even take part, nor did most of my friends' families. So why threaten us?

Still, I can't deny that part of me is excited. The winner will bring back money and food. They'll be a hero to the poor. And if that happens in our district, it will prove what the Capitol should know. District 1 isn't looking for trouble. We've learnt our lesson.

Just as long as it's someone else doing the proving.

* * *

They're calling the ceremony where they choose the contestants 'the reaping'. That sounds grim. Like the tributes are already dead. At least they've tried to make it fair: the older you are, the more times you're entered. I'm seventeen, so I get entered six times and Pearl, my sister, will be entered twice. You can sign up for this thing called tessarae: you get enough oil and grain for one person, but you get your name added again. I think some of the poorer people did this but a lot of my friends haven't.

People are excited and frightened in equal amounts. The idea is scary but, at the same time, this could be an excellent way to get favour from the Capitol. For the last week, all everyone's been talking about is the Games. Do we stand a chance? What do we have to do?

The ceremony – sorry – the reaping is tomorrow, at eight-thirty in the morning. We go first because we're District 1. Pearl is already nervous, so I'm trying to make her feel better. Dad doesn't see the funny side. He never does.

"Jewel," he snaps after I tell her the winner of the Games will get to fly a hovercraft all around the districts, "stop messing around. It's hard enough already."

If there's one thing I hate about myself, it's my name. Jewel Arram. I never used to mind but after hearing other districts names in the Rebellion – names like Madge, Gidde or Daisy – I can't help thinking mine is stupid. I mean, I'm named after a stone. Not even a specific one. Pearl is better; at least her name was considered normal in District 13.

Mom and Dad both tell me my name is fine. I'm named after my grandmother and she didn't complain. Pearl tells me that at least it's not as bad as the boy who lives next door: Hue. For a thirteen-year-old, Pearl's pretty sensible. My parents are just strange.

The other thing I hate, though, is my surname. Or what it begins with: A. I always have to do things first. Need three people? Let's use an alphabetical list. Who should do the test first? Oh, just pick the person whose surname begins with an A. And then everyone else wants to know what whatever it is, is like. Hey, I didn't get a preview. Why should you?

I end up first for nearly everything: competitions, being picked for teams. In those cases, it's nice. But usually, it's annoying.

"Sorry," I say to Dad. "Just trying to be cheerful."

"Well, don't," he snaps. "This is serious. It's not a joke."

"I know. I'll start crying now." I pull a dramatically sad face. Pearl laughs.

"Jewel, you could die! Don't you understand that?"

My dad spends a lot of time worrying about things he can't control, and this worries everyone else. He's bald (due to stress, I think) but strong. When he's angry, he's scary.

"We haven't even been picked," I point out cautiously, ever the optimist. Someone in this family has to be.

"Yet," he mutters back.

I roll my eyes. "I have, what, a six in five thousand chance? Pearl has even less." It's not that I'm not worried: I am. But I can't bear to think about the possibility of me or my sister being picked. If I focus on the good points, I can get through it easier.

"But it's still high," Mom says, speaking for the first time. She's always quiet in family talks. "When you think about other people."

"Yeah, well, even Hue has a chance of being picked. And he only has one slip in that bowl. It's possible, but it's not likely."

"We need to be prepared," says Dad angrily, not impressed by my logic. "For the worst. If either of you are picked, you need to come home."

"I will," Pearl vows.

"This is a bit late to prepare, isn't it?" I ask. "It's in eleven hours."

"Promise us, Jewel," he thunders.

I sigh. "I promise I'll try."

"You'll try?" His voice is menacing. If I wasn't used to him using this voice on me so often because he doesn't like my attitude, I would be cowering by now.

"I'll try," I agree steadily. "But I can't guarantee it." Pearl looks upset. I realise that I can't win: if I joke, Dad will shout at me. If I take it seriously, Pearl will cry. I'll have to go for something in the middle. "OK, OK," I say hastily. "I promise if I get picked I'll come home. Even if I have to hijack one of those hovercrafts, I'll turn up at the door and ask you for dinner."

Dad sighs. "Guess that's the best I'll get out of you," he says.

I've upset him. Again. "I won't give up," I promise. "Honestly. But let's not worry about it now. Anyone could be picked. Please, Dad?"

To my relief, he agrees. But the mood in the house is undeniably sombre, despite my efforts to get everyone smiling again.

When I go to bed, I stop smiling. I stop laughing. I know I only have a slight chance of being picked. But if I do get picked, I could die.

I dream about the Games when I sleep. I dream that I'm in a corridor with twenty-three other people. We're each led into a separate room – a small, empty room – and left to die. And when I wake up, I'm sweating. Because that could easily happen. To me. To Pearl. To any of my friends.

And how could we fight a fate like that?

* * *

I wake up at about six which is when I normally wake up. Usually, Dad would be heading to the factory to make the luxury goods for the Capitol and Mom would be heading to the market to sell crafts. I would either be going with Dad, going to school or going to barter food from the butcher and baker.

We're lucky in my family. We earn enough that we never go hungry: District 1 families all over tend to do well. We never went hungry, even in the rebellion, although I know some families did. Dad just kept on working, day after day, and the Capitol rewarded him.

Today, they're still in the kitchen because of this reaping ceremony. We all have to go so work and school are cancelled. District 1 is going first, so this will be a free day for most people. It's actually quite annoying because I'd like to see what I'm going to have to put up with during this ceremony but, instead, I get to see for myself. And everyone else can watch instead (except District 2 and possibly 3, because each reaping is half-an-hour apart from the other).

I wonder who will watch us. Most districts hate us because we didn't do much for the rebellion and we were the first to fall. It's easier for them. They don't live next door to the Capitol.

The wait is boring. I spend some of it picking an outfit. Not by choice: Mom thinks my first set of clothes is too casual. She says that, if I'm called up, I have to look presentable and create a good impression. Pearl gets the same lecture when she wakes up.

I don't know why my family are focusing on it so much. Why worry unless it happens? All that it's doing is stressing them out. Still, arguing with her will do me no good so I accept her choice of clothing – a pretty blue blouse and purple skirt, made from fine material and worth a lot. It emphasises my blonde hair and hides my less-than-thin figure.

I'm not fat so much as sturdy. Work in the factories and excess sport in school, as well as some weapons training during the rebellion (just in case the army got to us. They didn't say which army) has given me some muscles. I'm not beautiful but I could look worse, I suppose. No one will be comparing me to my name anytime soon though.

I feel stupid, being dressed up so nicely. I try not to think about it right up until I leave the house. Then I see people dressed just as smartly as me. Mostly teenagers. Those eligible for the Games. I suddenly want to thank my mother for being so much more prepared than me but she bustles me down the street and the words are lost as Dad grumbles under his breath.

We arrive at the City Square at eight. It's loud and I don't think I've ever seen it hold so many people. Almost as soon as we enter, Pearl and I are told to go to a table, to register our arrival, before being herded away from our parents and into a mass of teenagers. She has to stand near the front with the other thirteen-year-olds. I get told to stand near the back with the seventeen-year-olds.

It's hard work pushing through the crowd and I stumble once I reach the seventeen-year-olds. Lev – a silent refugee from District 13 whom I don't know that well – picks me up and smiles before turning back to his friend. I consider speaking to his friend, who I know a lot better, but before I can, Gleam finds me and drags me over to two of my other friends – a short, stocky boy called Calem and a pretty girl called Ayla.

She smiles. "Happy Hunger Games," Gleam greets me, using the official phrase. I wonder if my best friend has gone crazy.

"Happy Hunger Games," I reply. The words feel odd on my tongue.

Calem sighs, running his hands through his short, black hair nervously. "This is scary," he admits. "We don't know what's in these Games."

"Yeah," Ayla says. "I wouldn't mind trying it, if I knew what was in it." Despite her looks, Ayla's the most adventurous person I know.

"We do know what's in it," I say. They turn to look at me. "Twenty-four kids get to kill each other on T.V. and only one of them will be alive by the end of it."

She glares at me. "That's it though. What's actually _in _it? We get trained but how do we know what to train at or, you know, how to survive?"

"Ever tried breathing?" I quip. I can't help it. Sometimes, I feel like I need humour like I need life. This is one of those times. It stops me from focusing on the bad things.

"Stop joking!" snarls Calem. "If we want to win, we have to be prepared."

"You sound like my dad," I inform him. "And there _is_ no preparation time left this year. So why worry?"

"Because you aren't taking it seriously," says Gleam. "If you're picked and you think it's a joke, you'll die. And the district will just disown you."

She's right. District 1 isn't exactly a tight-knit, stand-up-for-your-neighbour kind of place.

"I know it's serious. But I don't see the point in worrying unless I'm picked. Besides, someone might volunteer. I heard that's allowed."

"No one will. Not for the first one."

Of course not. Everyone wants to weigh up the odds first.

I open my mouth to tell them that it could happen anyway but we're called to silence. On the stage are a man and a woman, who are sitting down, Mayor Sard and the Capitol representative: a small, cheerful man called Duriem Wensar. I've only ever seen him once before, but he made a lasting impression on me. And everyone else around me for that matter.

Duriem sits down. Mayor Sard begins to speak. He tells us of the history of Panem - as if we don't know from countless history lessons – and reminds us how bad the rebellion was. Those days were bad, I have to agree, but I can't help wondering if there was more to it. Why did the rebels rise up? It started when I was little, so I don't remember the beginning. I don't remember the reasoning behind it.

He talks for a long time about why we need the Games. I try to listen, to absorb any helpful information, but my eyes are fixated on the glass bowls. There are loads of pieces of paper in there. Six of them say Jewel Arram. But six in all of that? What are the chances?

Vaguely, I wonder what would happen if two people have the same name. Who goes forward?

There's a faint smattering of applause and I realise Mayor Sard has finished his speech and has introduced Duriem. I snap my head up to attention as our Escort springs up and takes centre stage.

"Happy Hunger Games, District 1, and may the odds be _ever_ in your favour" he greets us chirpily. "I hope you're all as excited as I am for the first ever Hunger Games."

"Could anyone be as excited as him?" I mutter to Gleam.

"Shut up, Jewel," she replies, but she's smiling.

"Now, just remember, you can only volunteer after the person whose name is called out arrives on stage. If you don't manage it this year, there's always next year for most of you."

I wonder who he thinks is volunteering. Despite what I said, I haven't met a single person who's planning on doing it.

"And remember, the district who wins will be honoured like no other. My friends behind me will agree." He gestures to the round-faced man and the sharp-faced woman. "These two are Kimre Doyl and Liss Pelat. Until the District has winners or until fifteen years has passed, they will act as the tributes' mentors." The man smiles and waves. The woman just nods.

Duriem walks over to the bowls. "Let's not keep you waiting any longer. It's time to pick our tributes – the first tributes to ever be picked as well. May the odds be _ever_ in your favour." It's the second time he's said it and, for some reason, I find it annoying.

"Why couldn't he just say good luck?" I grumble in the silence.

"Capitol's phrase," Calem hisses back. "Now shut up."

"Girls first," says Duriem winningly. My attention snaps back to the stage as he places his hand in the bowl on the left. Ayla and Gleam tense. I think I do too. No one speaks as he slowly, painfully picks up a piece of paper. In front of me, a tiny sixteen-year-old is whispering 'not me, not me'. I want to do it too, but I like to imagine I have a bit more dignity.

Not me, please, I think. Not me, or Pearl or Gleam or Ayla or … or anybody. No one I know, please. Not until we know what we're getting into.

Please.

He unfolds the paper. It seems to be taking hours. It can only be seconds.

He opens his mouth. This is it. Only six, I remind myself.

"And the first female tribute of District 1 is …" he pauses. I want to tell him to get a move on. This is killing me.

"Congratulations … Jewel Arram! Come on up."

This really has killed me.

I stay where I am, paralysed. My knees are buckling. Calem grabs my arm. I think I'm about to faint.

After all my joking, after all my attempts to placate everyone, after all my reassurances, I have been chosen. Dad was right. Everyone was right and I was wrong. I'm almost certainly the one who has to try this first-hand.

"Jewel Arram?" calls Duriem. "Are you there?"

Ayla gives me a nudge. I jump, pulling Calem up with me.

"Yes," I squeak and grimace. "Yes," I try again and this time, he can hear me. I pull my arm out of Calem's grasp and slowly walk forward. People move aside. "I'm sorry," I add. "I was just thinking about it."

There's a strange sound coming from the crowd. Laughter.

"Nothing wrong with thinking," chuckles Duriem. "Glad to see you're ready."

Am I? It takes me a few seconds to realise that he's joking.

I decide to finish my walk in as dignified a manner as possible, if only to make myself feel better. As I walk through the thirteen-year-olds, I hear crying. Pearl.

I know I shouldn't, but I quickly turn back and mouth 'hovercraft' in the direction of the sobs. Then I continue. I hope she saw me.

"Hi," I say breathlessly as I walk onto the stage. Duriem smiles. I force myself to smile back.

"Hi, Jewel. Congratulations."

"Thanks." I resist the urge to point out that I haven't actually _done_ anything so there's no need to be congratulated. Unless he's thinking of the trip to the stage.

He turns to the crowd. "Before we can continue, is there anybody who wishes to volunteer in place of Jewel Arram?"

Come on, I think. Someone must want to try it. It's new. It's exciting. It's an adventure. Or, tell you what, I'll swap. I'll volunteer next year. Just someone, please volunteer.

No one says a word.

"Well then, I give you the first ever tribute of District 1 … and of the Hunger Games. Ladies and Gentlemen: Jewel Arram!" He shakes my hand.

Everyone claps. Some people cheer. I try to keep smiling, to wear away the shock in my eyes. Following Duriem's gesture, I turn to the mentors and shake their hands, still smiling. Then I turn back to face the crowd.

I'm first, I think numbly as the people cheer. Just like always, I'm first.

Just like always … why am I so surprised anyway? I'm always picked first. I should have guessed that this would happen.

They probably had a list in alphabetical order.


	2. Smile Like You Mean It

**Disclaimer:** I do not own The Hunger Games.

Geth342: Thanks a lot for the awesome feedback. You have all given me new hope! I hope you enjoy this chapter and the next update will be on 16th/17th May. Enjoy!

Chapter 2: Smile Like You Mean It

It's scary, standing on the stage, knowing every camera is trained upon me. People are watching me right now. Me. The first tribute ever.

As soon as everyone finishes cheering and clapping, Duriem walks over to the second bowl. I have a great view from where I'm standing. Nearly every boy has become grim. Nearly every girl is looking relieved.

He drops his hand into the bowl and picks out a name. It seems to be quicker to me. Maybe because there's no way this scenario could be worse.

"And our male tribute is … Kayn Lazuli. Come on up, Kayn!"

And I was wrong. This scenario has moved on from bad, skipped through terrible and landed on absolutely horrifying. Wrong twice in less than a day. I need to stop making predictions.

Why did _he_ have to be picked? The only person who could have been anywhere near as bad would have been Calem.

He makes his way through the crowd slowly. I study him. He's big. Strong. He has short, chestnut brown hair and dark, brown eyes. A face which hardly ever smiles and a stance which hardly ever relaxes.

Kayn and I were best friends once. Mom even thought we would be childhood sweethearts. We both like a challenge and that's how our friendship started: both of us trying to win a race, in which we drew. We constantly challenged each other. He won in places of strength. I won in places of skill. Mostly, he beat me. He's my one exception to always being first.

We're still friends now but we're not as close as we used to be. His mom died when he was thirteen and he closed us all off. That's when I made friends with Gleam and the others. When he returned to normality, he became friends with us but he was secretive and silent. Now he hangs around with Lev who arrived three years ago.

I really don't want to kill him.

Kayn arrives on stage and nods to Duriem, his face unreadable.

"Congratulations, Kayn. But, before we can continue, again: does any boy wish to volunteer for District 1 in place of Kayn Lazuli?" I hope someone will and a few boys look like they're considering it. But no one does.

"Very well then. I give you the first male tribute of District 1: Kayn Lazuli." Once again, there are claps and cheers. Kayn looks at the crowd with his impassive face and shows no interest as Duriem shakes his hand. I wonder what he's thinking.

Mayor Sard begins to read out the Treaty of Treason. I know it's important and I do attempt to listen but it's so boring that I can't help but zone out, thinking.

I suppose everything has to start somewhere, including these Games. But why do I have to help them start? The idea of killing twenty-three other people just doesn't appeal to me. The idea of honour and glory? Sure. An easy life? Definitely! Having some brute shove a spear through my back? Not so tempting. Me shoving a spear through someone else? Better than the last scenario but still not much fun.

Still, I'm in it now, for better or worse. Short of the Capitol being destroyed in the worst disaster known to man, I don't think I'm getting out either. Maybe I should just go with the flow. I don't need to spend my last few weeks worrying.

"Tributes, shake hands," orders the Mayor. I try to look more like I knew this was coming and less like I was daydreaming.

I turn and face Kayn whose facial expression hasn't changed. I stretch out my hand just as he holds out his. I grasp it firmly, looking him in the eye. He winks, just like he always does when he knows I'm worried. I wink back, just like I always do to make sure he doesn't have the advantage. After a few shakes, we let go.

The anthem plays and we raise our heads in respect. I wonder what I look like on TV. I've always wanted to be on it. Then again, I think I'd swap it for being in the crowd with my friends right now.

"The tributes will be escorted to the Justice Building," says the Mayor. "Visitors will have one hour to say their goodbyes." He pauses and then, clearly only just remembering it, adds, "Happy Hunger Games!"

Happy for him. Not too great from where I am.

The Peacekeepers escort us into the building and tell us to go into separate rooms. I obey them. My room is quite big and very plush. A bit like Gleam's house –she's very rich – but it still feels weird for me to be there.

As I sit down, I catch sight of a mirror and see that I'm smiling as though this is exactly what I wanted. Thinking about it makes me realise how much my jaw aches from the continual smiling so I relax, massaging my jaw. I'm beginning to see why Kayn was so impassive.

My family arrive first, about five minutes later. The Peacekeepers tell me that my hour has begun.

As soon as the door is closed, Pearl runs over to me, eyes red from crying, and wraps her arms around my waist. I hug her back.

"Don't cry," I whisper.

"I'm not," she sniffles back and moves her arms away. I try to smile at her, ignoring my protesting muscles, but give up quickly. It's too painful.

My family look at me. If this was anything else, they'd be telling me off for my reaction. But it's not. I'm going away to some unknown place and I may never come back. This isn't the time to tell me off.

"Jewel, you need to get a weapon you can use," Dad says urgently. "Knives, a mace … whatever you've tried, use it."

"Don't eat anything you don't recognise," Mom adds. This will probably be the majority of food but neither of us mentions that.

"Don't fight," is Pearl's contribution. "Hide from everyone."

"I'll try," I say quietly.

This is wrong. It's too sombre. It's like I'm already dead..

"And remember: you promised to come home. So at least try!" says Dad.

I need to make this normal. If I die, I don't want my last family memory to be of us crying. And this order is just what I need.

"Damn," I say lightly. "And I was going to stand in the middle and say 'I give up. Kill me now'." I try to grin. "My plan's been foiled."

Pearl giggles. Mom snorts. Dad sighs but he's smiling. "Typical Jewel," he says.

"Yep. At least you know you got the right room."

"Your sense of humour will be the death of me," he grumbles and then realises what he's said.

"At least you'll die chuckling," I quip. No one laughs. I wasn't expecting them to.

"_Try_ to concentrate in there."

"Sure. I'll quit drawing when I arrive."

I think they know I'm faking it.

"You're strong enough to fight," Mom says after a few seconds. "Just challenge them fairly."

"Except Kayn," I say.

"What?"

"He always beats me at wrestling and fighting. Best not to challenge him."

No one comments. We've known Kayn for years. The idea of us fighting isn't one that rests easily with them.

We talk for a few more minutes, with me trying to be as witty as I can, as funny as I can, as normal as I can. They try to act normal as well. If it wasn't for the desperateness in our faces and the fact they're letting me get away with being more stupid than usual, I would almost believe nothing bad was happening. Eventually, they say I'll have other visitors and they should go.

"OK," I say cheerfully. "Stay out of my room, Pearl."

She hugs me, tears trickling down her cheek. "I will," she sobs. I kiss her cheek.

"I'm joking," I whisper.

"I know," she replies.

Mom hugs me next. "Remember, we'll all be watching. We'll all be with you."

"Try not to distract me," I say and then whisper, "Thanks for sticking with me. I'll be home soon."

Finally, it's Dad's turn. He holds me close, almost too tight. "Good luck, Jewel."

"Thanks for not saying 'may the odds be ever in your favour'."

He smiles weakly. I think there are tears in his eyes.

"Look after everyone," I say.

He kisses my forehead. "I will. You … you be happy."

"I always am."

He lets go and they turn to leave.

"Wait!" I shout, desperate. This could be the last time I ever see them. It's only sunk in now. "I just … I just … I love you. I love you all."

"We love you too," Dad chokes out. "Always."

And then they're gone.

* * *

Calem, Ayla and Gleam come in next. For some reason, I ask them if they're going to visit Kayn as well. They assure me they will before silently sitting in front of me.

"So," I say to break the silence, "I guess you'll have to cope without me."

"Don't joke," Gleam pleads. "Not now."

"I wasn't joking."

She shifts nervously.

Ayla decides to interject. "Listen, Jewel. Just remember. You're from District 1 so you're Number One. You're better than they are. Just give them hell." Ayla's always been a bit bloodthirsty.

"Don't go crazy though," adds Calem.

"Eh?"

"If you lose your head, you'll d- lose. Keep it cool."

"And remember that trick for breaking fingers," says Ayla.

"Because that'll stop them," I mutter. Calem pokes my arm.

"Be nice."

"Sorry."

Suddenly Gleam pulls a ring off her finger and holds it out to me. I look at the ring and start. It's her favourite: a thin gold band with a small emerald. On the gold is writing in an old language which she says is called Latin. The ring has been in her family for generations and she won't let anyone touch it.

"Take it," she says, still holding the ring out.

I can't do that. Not her ring.

"You're allowed to have one thing to remind you of home. D'you have anything?" Numbly, I shake my head. "Then I want you to have this."

"But it's yours," I whisper.

"Consider it a loan."

Calem and Ayla are silent. They're just as shocked as I am. "You might not get it back," I say. "If I d-"

"Don't say it."

"But you-"

"It's a promise. You promise to get this ring back to me, OK?"

We all know what she means.

"I promise."

"Good." She hands me the ring and I hold it.

We sit in silence for a minute more. Eventually, I suggest that they go and visit Kayn. They nod and stand up. Gleam's eyes are watering.

"Oh, before you go, there's one thing I want you to know," I say. They look at me expectantly. "Calem, Ayla … will the pair of you hurry up and get together? It's driving me mad!"

They stare at me; they weren't expecting that. Ayla gulps out a laugh. "Don't be gone for too long and don't change. We need our District Idiot back in one piece." She kisses me on the cheek. "I'll miss you."

Calem hugs me. "When you come back, I'll be with her, alright?" he whispers. "Good luck in there."

Gleam takes the ring from my hand and slides it onto my finger. Any other time, I would joke that she's trying to marry me. But not now.

"You promised," she says. "And I'll keep an eye on these two for you." She pulls me into a tight hug. "You'll win."

"I'll try." I'm attempting not to cry. To cry would be to acknowledge that something horrible is happening and I can't do that. I force my features into a weak smile.

"Bye, Jewel."

I wave in reply. If I speak, I don't think any words will come out. Just pure sobbing.

* * *

I have a few more visitors: two girls who I sometimes speak to in school, an ex-boyfriend and his girlfriend (who has suddenly warmed up to me). They don't stay for long. They simply walk in, wish me luck and tell me they have every faith in me. Lev comes in, sits in silence and then pats me on the shoulder before leaving. I say 'Thank you' and wonder what that was all about.

When I have about ten minutes left, Kayn's father and older brother walk in. Kayn has a little sister as well but she's not here. This doesn't surprise me: she's never liked me and, frankly, I have no idea why Mr. Lazuli and Judak are here.

"Hi," I say carefully. Mr. Lazuli regards me silently. I've only ever heard him speak about five times. Luckily, Judak has always been a bit more talkative.

"Hey, Jewel," he says. He's lucky – he turned nineteen three days ago. He escaped by the skin of his teeth.

"Um …" I try to think of something to say. "I'm sorry I have to fight Kayn." It's the best I can come up with.

Judak waves this away. "It's not your fault. But that is what we want to speak to you about." He takes a breath, smiling uneasily. "If you win …we'll bear you no grudge. If someone else was to k- make him lose, then we'll be on your side."

"Thank you," I say quietly.

His uneasy smile is still on his face. I wonder if it's as hard to keep up as mine is. "But, if you two fight and you win fairly, we'll understand." His smile slips and he tries to fix it in place again but it doesn't work. "You want to win," he says softly. "So does Kayn. We understand. That's why … we just hope your family would be the same if … if the positions are reversed"

"I'm sure they would." I look Judak in his dark eyes for the first time. "Thank you."

He nods. "That's all we wanted to say." He hesitates and then says, "Good luck, Jewel."

"Good luck," echoes Mr. Lazuli, making me jump.

"Thank you," I say for the third time.

They leave without as much as a backward glance. I wonder how much courage it took them to tell me that.

* * *

About one minute after the Lazulis leave, the Peacekeepers fetch me out of my room. As we walk to the car which will take us to the station, I look around, trying to drink in the scenery. This could be my last time in District 1. I rub my eyes to stop myself from crying and force myself to think of something happy as I step into the car.

The car is fascinating. I've seen them before but I've never actually been in one and I'm wondering how it works. Beside me, Kayn is slightly less impassive as he inspects the vehicle. Thinking about the car takes my mind off my family. I wonder if it does the same for him.

We have to stand in the station for a few minutes while we wait for the train. Cameras are pointed at us and I see a TV screen with our images projected live. My smile is back so I look like this is all perfectly normal, like I do this all the time and it's my favourite hobby. Kayn looks completely bored. Then the image flips to our names being called but, before I can see it, the train arrives.

And I was impressed with the car!

The train is amazing. It goes at such a speed that I know we would be at the Capitol in half a day if we didn't have to pick up the other tributes first. Kayn and I are allotted rooms which are even fancier than Gleam's house. Duriem tells me that I can do whatever I like but I should be ready for lunch in two-and-a-half hours. The drawers are filled with beautiful clothes. Only one of my dresses could be worth as much as these and that dress is a fancy hand-me-down.

I take a shower and spend the rest of the time hunting around the compartment, drawing and trying not to think about my friends and family. As it is, about an hour into the journey, I look out of the window and realise we are far away from District 1. Unexpectedly, tears form in my eyes and I feel glad that there are no cameras in this room. These are the tears I wanted to cry earlier.

I force myself to cheer up by imagining myself returning home, victorious. Everyone cheering as I walk off the train. The amount of money I suddenly possess. A cute boy who walks up to me and says he was worried about me the whole time and would I like to go out with him. Somehow, the details of the actual Games don't really come into any of these scenarios.

When I arrive for lunch, Liss and Kimre are already there. Kayn walks in just after I do. Duriem appears a minute later.

The food is … beautiful. There's no other way to describe it. I've never gone hungry before and our food at home has occasionally been 'luxurious', when Dad has saved up enough money to buy us a treat, but there's so much of it, all at once. I eat as much as I can without looking like a pig. Kayn – whose family is worse off than mine, especially after his mother's death – does the same but with less success. The three adults are a lot better at restraining themselves. They're probably used to it.

Once we've finished eating, the adults look at each other.

"Well, Jewel, Kayn, it's nice to meet you. I'm Kimre. This is Liss." The round-faced man smiles pleasantly. Liss merely nods; her grey eyes are cold. She looks like she doesn't want to be here. "First things first, do you know about the Games?"

"I think I noti-" I cut myself off. I really should be polite. "I think so." Beside me, Kayn nods.

"What do you know then?" Kimre asks. I glance at Kayn. He has his mouth closed firmly so it looks like the talking is going to be done by me. I explain the basic concept of the Games and a few of the things I knew about it, like how we're on television all the time.

In return, he explains a few extra things. Yes we're in an outdoor arena but the Gamemakers will be able to control our climate. We get trained (that's a relief anyway) and we have to try and get people to 'sponsor' us by attracting them in the Opening Ceremony, a training score (training seems less of a relief to me now) and an interview. My heart sinks at the mention of each new thing. This is a lot more complicated than I thought.

"Now, our other question is, how do you two want to be trained? We can do it together or I can take one of you and Liss can take the other."

"Separately," Kayn says, speaking for the first time. He even grins albeit slightly savagely. "I want to make sure I can beat Jewel." His eyes light up at the thought of a challenge.

I grin back, determined not to be outdone. "But what if we're in the arena and all the other tributes go after you and I run away? How will you know you're better than me?"

He frowns. "Why are they chasing me?" A lot of people can't believe that Kayn ever talks but I've never found it hard to draw him into conversation. Although, a lot of our conversations are competitive.

"I don't know. Maybe they don't like your name."

"What's wrong with my name?" He tries to make this sound menacing but it isn't working. I laugh at the attempt.

"I don't know. They don't like names with four letters? Or, I know, they'll go after the big person. That's you. Happy?"

"But why all of them?" He's laughing a bit as well. I try to answer but I'm giggling too much. I think it might be hysteria from the day's events more than anything else.

"OK," he agrees. "Together. Just to prove I can win."

"Never happen," I manage to gasp out. It feels like we're at home: like we're twelve-years-old again and having a mock debate.

Liss' voice stops us. It's cold and serious. "You are friends." It isn't a question but we nod anyway. "Good friends?"

"Fairly," says Kayn.

"We were best friends once," I supply helpfully.

Kimre trades a worried look with Liss and Duriem. "This is bad," he mutters. "Very bad." He looks at us. I've stopped smiling now. "It's decided. You train separately. You can't go into the arena as friends."

"But-" I begin.

"No, Jewel. Only one of you two can come home. The less close you are, the easier it will be to accept it. And if the Gamemakers see that you're friends, they might worry about what will happen if you have to fight each other." Kimre locks his blue eyes with mine. "If that means arranging for one of you to die then I'm sure they will. They can change the climate to send people your way. They could probably arrange something like an avalanche to kill you. Don't underestimate the Games. This is television. They need drama _but_ they need a winner who will prove that the Games are right. Not two winners. One." A pause. "Pick one of those reasons – I don't care which one – and remember it."

Being friends will kill us. Not being friends will kill us, just not as definitely.

"I get it."

Kimre nods and then makes a snap decision: he will teach Kayn and Liss will teach me. The woman stands up and leaves the compartment. I follow silently. I want to trade a glance with Kayn but I stop myself at the last moment.

She's standing outside the next compartment and gestures for me to walk in there. I do so, feeling increasingly nervous. It occurs to me that this woman scares me.

She's very much to the point: she asks me whether I can use weapons as soon as I've sat down. I attempt to be as direct as she is as I tell her I can use knives, maces and I know a few punches. My confidence boosts as she tells me that will put me above the others.

Then she somehow manages to ask me about all the things I can't do: I can't aim, I can't hunt or set traps and I have no idea which herbs and berries are poisonous. I consider saying that a lot of these skills have no use in District 1 but something tells me that this really isn't a good idea.

My confidence goes back down again as her only judgement on my skills after this is: 'you should learn at the Training Centre'. Before I can tell her that I had actually worked this out for myself, she asks me about Kayn. I force myself not to start telling her about his life and stick to explaining how strong he is and that he can use a sword.

She finishes by considering me. "You should look decent when the stylists are done." She pauses. "OK, be ready for dinner at five. Now go away." Her mouth twitches and I realise that she's smiling.

I thank her and flee. Her smile is scarier than her cold eyes.

* * *

Kayn arrives by our compartments at the same time I do.

"Liss scares me," I mutter without thinking. He says nothing. "You're lucky you got Kimre."

"Jewel, we're not supposed to talk," he murmurs.

"Oh, yeah. I forgot." I blush and turn to my door, wondering how I could have forgotten our orders already.

"Why aren't I surprised?" he says. "Getting you to stop talking is like asking the Capitol to revive District 13."

"Says the boy who won't shut up," I point out, turning back to look at him.

"See!"

"And you were so quiet earlier," I muse. "Why are you talking now?"

He shrugs. "Had nothing to say earlier." This is probably the story of his life.

"And now?"

"I'm just telling you, we're not meant to be talking to each other!"

"But. You. Keep. Talking." I say as though speaking to an idiot.

He copies my tone. "So. Do. You." He smiles.

I laugh and then stop abruptly. "We're doing it again. Being friends."

He forces his face back into impassive. "Yes."

I sigh. "I guess it's for our own good though."

He nods. "Yes." One word answers are clearly the order of the day now.

I look around the corridor, wondering how to finish this. "I wish we didn't have to though."

His features soften slightly. "Same."

I turn back to my door. "I guess we're not friends from now on. Agreed?"

"Agreed." He sticks his hand out and I'm about to ask him what on earth he's doing but it occurs to me that I should just go with the flow. I shake the outstretched hand.

"Good luck, tribute," he says gruffly.

I can't resist replying with, "And may the odds be _ever_ in your favour," in an exact imitation of Duriem. I see a ghost of a smile flicker on his face and then he turns and heads into his compartment. I walk back into mine.

There. I've done it. I've cut off the friendship of my oldest friend. It's funny: I once thought nothing would ever stop us from being friends.

Apparently, though, the Hunger Games can.


	3. Don't Be Afraid To Shine

**Disclaimer:** I do not own The Hunger Games.

**Geth342:** Well, here's the third chapter. I feel a bit rude asking, but i'd like to ask if more people wouldn't mind reviewing. Just for advice and stuff like that. I know my writing isn't brilliant but if you can tell me where you think i'm going right or wrong, the story will improve. For example, i'm going to be attempting to use American words in this story (key word - attempt) and if you spot something which isn't American, point it out!

Anyway, i hope you enjoy regardless. The next update will be 25th/26th hopefully. Enjoy!

_06/04/2012 - Britishism corrected_

Chapter 3: Don't Be Afraid To Shine

Once in my room, I don't know what to do with myself for the next few hours. The later districts will only be on this train for a few hours as they arrive so much later in the day. Kayn and I are spending most of the day on here.

I decide to take a nap but I'm just not tired: I manage to lie still for about forty-five minutes before I get up again and pace around the room. For something so exciting, these Games are actually incredibly boring. Although I probably won't be saying that when I'm actually in the arena and fighting.

On my third circuit of the room, I spot a spare wooden chair leg in the corner and, after a moment's deliberation, pick it up. It can't hurt to practice. Of course, I don't think that's what this chair leg was put here for and I'm pretty sure Kimre said something about us not being allowed to train, but if anyone comes in, I'll say I tripped, or thought someone was about to mug me. Well, I'll think of something.

I swing it like I would a mace, imagining I'm back at Weapons class. At first, I'm hopeless but by the end of an hour I have successfully remembered a few swings and blocks, practiced three footwork patterns and told a silent worker that a fly was annoying me.

And yes: he looked at me as though I had completely lost my mind.

I decide to take another shower just for the hell of it and am mildly surprised to find the water is still warm; while I don't have a shower at home, Gleam does and she says the water always turns cold. After this, I run out of things to do. By the time dinner comes around, I'm almost crazy with boredom. I have never been good at keeping myself occupied and this is no exception.

I don't say a word to Kayn when he enters the room although we exchange brief nods. I end up sitting next to Liss and he sits opposite me, next to Kimre. Duriem sits at the head of the table looking just as cheerful as ever. Clearly, boredom doesn't factor much in his life.

As we eat (I fall in love with the tomato soup), Duriem tells us that he thinks we're on equal footing with the other tributes because no one knows how the Games will actually go. He also adds that, with our physical statures (his words, not mine) we have a good chance of being sponsored.

Kimre and Liss discuss a few things they say both of us should know – at the beginning, there'll be useful items by something called the Cornucopia so there'll probably be a huge fight to go with it. Animals like tracker-jackers and mockingjays may be in the arena. When a tribute dies, a cannon will fire and, in the night, their image will be shown in the sky.

It shocks me how matter-of-fact they sound about this. These could be our deaths they're describing. Or, at least, one of ours.

As if he's read my mind, Duriem reassures us that, should we die, our bodies will be sent back to our family. I suppose I won't have to worry about losing Gleam's ring now but I sort of wish he hadn't told us that: now all I can think about is how my family will react to seeing my dead – and cut up – body.

After dinner, we head to another compartment to see the recap of the reapings across Panem. The recap will cut out most of the speeches and have commentary. More importantly, it will give us a chance to size up our opponents (who are all on the train now). Before we settle down, Liss warns us not to focus on the tributes' names as we don't want to feel sympathetic towards them. I think this is aimed at me.

The first one, of course, is our district. I watch as Duriem calls my name and I don't respond. I hear myself say that I'm 'just thinking about it' – there's no nervousness in my voice (why is there no nervousness in my voice?) – and a commentator then jokes that I'm already planning my strategy. It flashes to my cheerful smile as people cheer. Then Duriem calls Kayn who looks bored. They call us polar opposites which I suppose, on screen, we are.

The other reapings flash by. Most tributes just look small and afraid – nothing special – but a few catch my eye. An icily handsome boy from District Two who smiles charmingly at the crowd. A huge mountain of a girl from 4 who volunteers eagerly. An eighteen-year-old girl who bursts into tears from 6. A frail girl from 9 and a younger boy who volunteers: her brother. A sturdy giant from 10.

Most tributes are between fifteen and eighteen. The boy from 9 and the girl from 11 are the youngest at thirteen, followed by the girl from 3 and the boys from 5 and 11 who are fourteen (or so the captions say). Despite myself, I feel reassured by the other tributes: only the people from Two, Four and the boy from Ten look as well fed as Kayn and I. Maybe I do have a chance.

"So, that's your competition," Kimre says.

"They look weak," grunts Kayn.

"Don't underestimate them. Small people can hide much more easily and it only takes one person to shoot an arrow into your back," Liss warns him.

Without thinking, I say, "That's pessimism for you." I wince as she turns her frosty glare on me.

"Would you prefer to think they're not a threat and get your throat cut?" she asks coldly. I apologise and she looks away. I notice Kayn's mouth twitching and know that he's dying to make a joke about me apologising for talking.

Kimre glances at his watch. "We'll be there tomorrow. Duriem will wake you up in time, so you can go now. Try to get some sleep."

I try not to groan as I get up. Now I have to keep myself entertained until it's time to sleep.

* * *

I end up drawing for three hours before falling asleep in the incredibly soft bed. I don't dream. Duriem wakes me up in his incredibly excited manner and it's because of this that I don't warn him about the dangers of waking Kayn up early: even I have my limits on being disgustingly cheerful.

After a quick shower, I put on a beautiful green skirt-and-top combo and walk out of my compartment, yawning furiously. Judging by Kayn's stumble, he's feeling a bit worse-off than me.

The view wakes me up. The Capitol is like an upgraded version of District 1. There are cars everywhere, huge buildings on every side showing no sign of the Rebellion. People have multi-coloured hair and clothes to match the city.

As we pull into the city and the station, people stare at us and then they cheer and wave. I get a bit swept up in the excitement and wave back. Kayn merely looks incredulous. I don't think he'd ever wave in excitement. In fact, I don't think he would smile unless he's with friends or family. He doesn't relax as easily as I do.

Despite the situation, I can't help feeling happy. It's nice to be the centre of so much admiration, even if I know it's for something bad.

* * *

I always wondered what a makeover would be like and now I know: it's painful.

Before we were taken to the remake centre, Kimre told us to go along with whatever our stylists suggested and, at the time, I nodded, confused. Why would I want to disagree with the experts? Well, now I know why.

My team have had me for two hours. In this time, they have washed my hair so fiercely that I doubt any dirt will ever dare to settle on it again, polished my nails until they feel like they could become my own, personal mirrors, stripped me and washed as much of my body as they could – ignoring my embarrassment I might add – and taken off most of my body hair … and what feels like most of my skin. And I haven't even met my stylist.

If this is what preparation for the Games feels like then I _really_ don't want to take part in the actual event. Then again, this could be the worst part. At least my opponents will be trying to make sure I die quickly rather than scrubbing me.

The man who seems to be the leader of this merry band – Nero – rips off one last set of leg hair (I look curiously to make sure my leg is still attached) (it is) and tells me that my stylist will see me now. I look around curiously, waiting.

A young woman with spiky, blue – and I mean bright blue – hair, an orange face and a confident smile walks in. She tells me that her name is Athena and then inspects me carefully. I suddenly remember that I'm naked and feel very grateful that my stylist isn't a man. Then I remember Nero, who has just tortured me for two hours and was within a closer range to my body, was male.

Goodbye, dignity.

"Tall, strong figure," she murmurs in a strong Capitol accent – the sort I often imitate. "You have beautiful eyes. Green as emeralds."

"Thanks. Your eyes look nice too," I lie. Her eyes are just as blue as her hair. It's very disconcerting.

She waves my compliment aside. "Bit muscular but we can hide that. Your hair though." She sighs. "I think it needs to be shorter."

"Whatever you say," I agree cheerfully, smiling to hide my disappointment. I love my long hair. At home, no one would dare suggest cutting it. But the fact I have to agree here just proves how far away from home I am.

She tells me to pull on a robe and follow her to the next room. I try not to look too relieved as I'm finally clothed. Once in the next room, she motions to a chair and I sit down. She begins to cut my hair, talking at the same time.

"As you know, we've got to reflect your district. Luxury items are a good theme."

"Better than agriculture," I mutter.

In the mirror, I see her purse her lips, not amused. "Quite. Anyway, Titus – the other stylist – and I feel that we need to create a strong impression. So our theme will be jewels. Goes well with your name too."

I smile. "Well, at least they'll get my name right even if they do it by accident," I agree, getting the distinct impression that I'm not supposed to join in. Hair falls into my mouth and I resolve to stay quiet.

"Now you get all kinds of jewels, of all different colours and hues, and different shapes and sizes."

"Just like people," I add, ever the promoter of diversity. I splutter as more hair lands in my mouth. How much is she cutting off? It occurs to me that my plan to be quiet lasted less than ten seconds. Kayn would be proud.

"Anyway, the pair of you will look quite similar but we want to set you apart. We're going to make you colourful."

She carries on cutting my hair in silence. I wait for her to elaborate.

"Colourful?" I ask when I see no explanation coming.

"Do you like dresses?"

I'm thrown by this change of subject. "Er – yes. They're nice. Colourful?"

"OK, all done." She presses a button and food appears. "Eat that quickly. We don't want food on your dress."

"Great. Good plan. Colourful?"

She exits, leaving me alone. A glance in the mirror tells me that my hair – now shoulder-length – is more practical than my old style, and more 'beautiful' But I don't like it: it's too distant from my own style. I gulp down food miserably and decide to think about something else. Like my outfit. Then I remember.

Why do I think I'm not going to like 'colourful'?

* * *

She begins by painting my nails with the colours of the rainbow and by decorating my hands with sparkling … something. I try to make conversation but she refuses to get drawn in. I feel a bit hurt. I'm not that bad company ... am I?

The she sprays me. With different colours.

The paints are also sparkly and I feel like a very colourful diamond by the end. My arms are different shades of blue, my legs are purple. My back is red. Even my face is coloured in: gold and silver.

(I probably look like an idiot. I would have complained but I had a feeling that this time, the spray would have ended up in my mouth.)

Next, she adds sparkles to my hair. I force myself to look on the bright side; if I get lost in the parade today, they'll easily be able to find me.

My dress is shimmering black with small jewels covering it in different patterns. My back is exposed (hence the red) and I hope I don't get too cold. Even my shoes – simple, flat shoes – glitter; they're covered in diamonds. I think I may have the value of my house on my body.

Before we leave, she makes me look in the mirror. I don't look too bad. I'll certainly be noticed. Actually, that's probably why we're going first – the other horses can just follow the sparkling girl.

I'm taken down a few floors to some stables. I glance around when I get there. At least I don't look the most stupid: District Twelve are dressed in skimpy miners' outfits which look terrible. District Eleven are dressed as farmers.

Other districts look great though: 9, who do science, are dressed in black and red, their hair frighteningly on end – I think they're an explosion. The boy stands protectively by his sister. 7 (transport) are dressed in tasteful drivers' outfits. 2 (military) are dressed as soldiers. The girl can't pull it off but the boy does it very well. I look at him as he brushes pale blond hair out of his eyes and surveys the tributes. Our eyes meet for a second. I look away first.

"Why don't you go and kiss him?" Kayn murmurs to me. "Put on a show."

I whirl around, embarrassed. Kayn is the last tribute to arrive. He's wearing a jewelled shirt and shimmering pants but is almost as colourful as I am; his clothes cover a bit more of him. His hair has also changed colour.

"At least I show up on time," I murmur back.

"Not my fault," he growls. "Titus decided to make my hair bronze at the last minute." He shakes his head in disgust. "I never want to do this again."

"But you've brought such colour to their lives!" I can't help smiling.

"I'll give them colour. Black and blue!"

"Touchy," I laugh but then we're told to get into our chariot. As they send us on our way we move apart, only remembering now that we're not friends.

The sunlight goes straight into my eyes, making me blink. The crowds cheer and roar. Once I've gotten used to the swaying motion I get caught up as well, smiling and waving back. Kayn is sullen again although he does raise a hand in acknowledgement.

Behind me I hear the District 2 chariot move but I focus on the people in the Capitol. I reach out towards screaming adults and they reach back as though trying to grab my hand. People cheer on our district and the ones behind us. One or two people call out names – both my name and Kayn's are in there – but it's mostly by district.

As we enter the City Circle, I catch sight of a TV. It's showing the very unhappy tributes of District 12 but then it switches to us. I'm glittering. The sunlight touches my body and I'm reflecting it back. Even my smile looks dazzling. I may look like an idiot but at least I'm an unforgettable one. Especially as my clothing will probably blind some of them. Curiously, I wave again and watch the screen as different colours arc out towards the crowds. Then the shot flicks to District 2.

OK. Maybe I was a bit harsh about my stylists.

Once we've all arrived in the City Circle, we stop. The President of Panem – President Cobalt (his surname is worse than my name, bless him) – makes a speech about how important the Games are to ensuring peace in Panem and how he thinks this will be the beginning of a fine tradition. It's alright for him. He doesn't have to take part. Although he probably uses stylists from choice.

He finishes the speech by saying that we're a fine group of tributes (he likes the word fine); we'll make our districts proud, (not if I lose. Has he seen District 1?) and, of course, may the odds be _ever_ in our favour (but they can't be in _all _of our favours. If they were, we'd all end up escaping and I don't think the Capitol would like that much. Personally, I wouldn't mind).

The anthem plays. As I raise my head in respect, I glance at the TV screen. It's showing us all; first in a circle as a very colourful bunch, then individually. I'm shown first with my name and age underneath. Swiftly, it moves to Kayn then a fifteen-year-old girl named Skira Anluc – the girl from 2. I force myself only to focus on the faces as Liss told me. She's right. I don't want to know their names. Because now Skira Anluc is not just a random stranger. And that makes everything so much worse.

Some tributes, like the girl from Six, look scared and worried. Others look confident. It's strange to think that in just a few days, I'll be fighting these kids for my life.

The anthem ends and the President bids us goodbye. We head to a tall building: the Training Centre. Our home for the next few days.

* * *

The first thing that happens is that Athena accompanies me to my room, pulls me through so I don't get to see what it's like and spends an hour working every last bit of paint off me. I offer to do it myself but she tells me it's best to leave these things to the professionals. She ignores me when I point out that I've been washing myself for years and no one's complained yet … apart from my makeover team.

A lot of soap gets in my mouth this time. I think she's trying to tell me something.

Once I'm no longer sparkly, she lets me go to my room with a warning that dinner will be in half-an-hour.

My room is very impressive. It's a lot larger than my one at home. The bed is huge and the sofas and curtains look very fancy. I can order any kind of food I want and I can see any part of the Capitol. The wardrobes are filled with clothes that probably cost more than half of my house.

I briefly consider investigating the bathroom as well (having spent most of the hour staring at the floor) but as I've just been in there, being mercilessly scrubbed (my left arm is particularly painful as the paint really didn't want to leave it) I can't bring myself to do it.

I dress in a plain dress and head to dinner. Kayn is sitting there with Duriem, Liss and Kimre, looking a lot happier now that he's wearing normal clothes and has his usual brown hair. I don't know what he was complaining about; there was less of him to paint because he was wearing more. Titus and Athena join us.

As we eat, Duriem tells us that a lot of people admired our look. He says happily that audience members thought we looked like two of the stronger tributes and our costume caught their eye (I nearly ask 'how could they miss it?' but Kayn kicks me as soon as I open my mouth).

He then tells us, in the exact same tone, that we weren't outstanding either. A lot of people are also looking at the tributes from 4 and the boys from 2 and 10 for strength and the tributes from 9 for costume and back-story. The tributes from 9 are the siblings.

"So we were good but not brilliant?" I ask.

Kimre smiles. "You both did very well. I liked how well you contrasted." He sees my confused face and explains. "Jewel, you were smiling and waving while Kayn barely acknowledged the crowd. Good playing up of the 'polar opposites' idea. Very well planned."

I start laughing. "We never planned a thing. That's how we normally are."

"Oh." Kimre smiles. "It worked well anyway. Now District One seems very broad. We have the cheerful girl who's ready for anything and the sullen boy who can kill you with one look."

"I've yet to see that happen," I mutter. I try not to wince as Kayn kicks me again. I know we're not friends but he doesn't have to be this mean.

"Thank you," says Kayn, giving no hint of his violently telling me to shut up.

The adults talk about how well the ceremony went as I dig into my dinner. Tomorrow, we start training. I hope I'm not completely hopeless compared to everyone else. I know the tributes from Four will be better. And the boy from Two.

I wonder why he was staring at me earlier. Oh, no, wait. That was me. He was probably wondering why I was staring at him. Well, I suppose I'll never have to speak to him so my moment of embarrassment won't matter.

"Jewel, I'm not going to say it again," Liss snaps. I look at her in confusion. What did she say? Why did I choose that moment to blank out?

"OK," I say hesitantly. "Kimre, what did Liss just say?"

Liss scowls at me. Kayn raises an eyebrow but says nothing. Duriem looks like he's trying not to laugh. Kimre sighs and says, "She told you to go to the other room with her so you can talk about training. _Try_ to listen."

"Right. Sorry." I get up hastily and head towards the door. Seeing that Liss hasn't moved, I add cheekily, "Come on, Liss." Then I leave before I get a chance to be scolded.

She walks with me to my room and we sit down on two of the big chairs.

"You look too strong to pretend to be weak," she says bluntly. "Go in there and try to intimidate a few people with the mace. And learn some archery and survival skills."

"OK," I say, startled by the directness.

"Don't try to talk to the other tributes. Remember: in a few days, they're going to try and kill you." She pauses. "We'll need to talk about that a bit more … maybe tomorrow. It's late now. Just remember the plan."

"Learn new skills, practice the mace and scare people," I say. Then I think of something. "I'm not sure I'm really a scary person."

She sighs. "I know. That's something we'll need to work on. Be up bright and early."

She gets up and walks out of the room, leaving me alone to sleep. As I drift off, I can't help wondering what sort of people invent something where you need to be scarier than you are.

* * *

I wake up early the next morning and decide to investigate the shower. Suddenly, I see why Athena was so insistent on washing me yesterday: this is far more complicated than the shower on the train. It has about a hundred buttons. I wish one of them said 'on'.

It takes me a minute to realise that the funny chain dangling by me is the 'on' mechanism. I pull it and warm water blasts out. I should settle for that but I'm curious about the need for one hundred buttons so I poke one randomly. Lavender steam pours out. I poke another one and orange-smelling goo lands on my hair and untangles it. This is pretty fun.

The next button covers me in green soap which seems determined not to be washed away and now I have to find the mechanism for more power in order to wash it off. After having to prod three more buttons to get the extra power, I decide to stop messing around with the shower. When I get out, I can't help but notice that I smell bizarrely of oranges, lavender and sea-salt. I consider giving the shower another go, just to get rid of the smell, but I can't be bothered. Hopefully, it will just go away.

Clothes have already been laid out for me – blue tunic, brown pants and leather shoes. I put them on and try to tie up my non-existent hair before remembering that it's lost several inches and is therefore somewhat resistant to being tied up.

Breakfast is very rushed and Liss quietly reminds me of my strategy, emphasising the word 'scare'. She seems to have quite big hopes in me; I can't remember the last time I scared anyone (not counting the fright my parents must have gotten when my name was called out at the reaping) and I'm not sure I'm going to manage it today. Maybe if I shout 'boo' every so often.

Kayn and I are taken down to a large gym. The tributes from 4 are already there. We sit down near them and watch silently as more and more teenagers walk in. Someone pins the number one to my top.

When all twenty-four of us have arrived, a tall, athletic man stands in the middle and tells us that this begins our three days of training. We can learn weapons or survival. At lunch, we'll eat in the canteen. If we want to practice fighting, we can practice with a trained sparring partner.

He finishes by asking us if we understand. Everyone murmurs 'yes'. I consider saying no, just for laughs, but then remember that I don't want to give these people _more_ reason to kill me than the one they already have.

"OK, your training begins … now!"

I glance around quickly. The other tributes are getting up and looking towards stations. Where should I go? Mace? Bows? Edible plants? Absent-mindedly, I stand up, turn and walk into something solid.

"Ow," says the girl from District Seven who I've just walked into.

"Sorry. I didn't see you."

"Watch where you're going," she mutters, rubbing her head.

"Right. Sorry." She walks away in disgust. I turn around and nearly walk straight into the boy from 11, who can't help laughing before wandering away.

Wow. Not only have I just proved I'm not scary, I've managed to make an idiot of myself twice in one minute. Something tells me this isn't going to go very well.


	4. Keep Your Enemies Close

**Disclaimer:** I do not own The Hunger Games.

**Geth342:** Thanks a lot for listening to my undignified plea and reviewing. It means a lot to me. This chapter is longer than i intended but i couldn't find a way to make it shorter. The next update will hopefully be on 1st/2nd June, although exam pressure may restrict updating time. Anyway, i hope you all enjoy!

Chapter 4: Keep Your Enemies Close

I decide that the best thing to do would be to practice with the knives: I don't want to try the mace just yet but I need to get my confidence back up somehow.

The boy from 4 is already there and seems to be really good with the knives. Uncertainly, I pick one up and let the instructor show me a few moves. When he sees that I know the most basic ones, he teaches me a few more and shows me a good way to throw the blades far. Best of all, I notice the tributes from Three looking slightly wary of me.

Throughout the morning, I flit from station to station. I spend an hour at the Edible Plants section where I discover that, despite what I think, the berries don't look the same. Unfortunately, I still can't tell the difference and I fail quite badly: I select seventeen poisonous plants as being edible and six edible plants as being deadly (although I do get about four correct). However, as long as I only eat the three plants I know are edible and avoid any others, I should be fine.

Or I could just become a carnivore. That might be easier.

I try practicing swords as well. It's different from the mace and although I know the basic grip, I still need to practice hard. Beside me, Kayn swings his blade with deadly ease.

By the time we go to lunch, apart from knives, plants and swords, I have also learnt to make a few snares which will help me on my way to becoming a carnivore, provided I remember where I place them and don't walk into them myself. It's a pity edible plants don't walk or I could have a balanced diet in the arena. Such is life, I suppose.

I sit down with my plate. Kayn sits a little bit away from me. Most of the tributes are sitting by themselves, alone and scared, although the brother and sister from Nine sit close together.

A hand appears in front of me, just as I'm about to eat. "Jakubar Obman, District 2, known as Jak," says a charming voice. I look up to see the blond-haired boy from District 2 standing by me.

"Oh, hi," I reply. He smiles and waves his hand at me. Confused, I wave back. He grabs my hand and shakes it. I realise that I should have introduced myself. "Jewel Arram, District 1."

He smiles. "Nice to meet you, Jewel."

I'm not really sure what's so nice about it but I return the compliment. Somewhere in the back of my mind, I hear Liss telling me not to speak to the other tributes.

"Oi, District Two," says Kayn who has slid up close to us. "Why are you here?" I'm surprised that Kayn is talking. Or listening for that matter.

Jak tries to shake Kayn's hand but the taller boy refuses. Jak shrugs, still smiling. "I was going to ask you next but since you're here … my fellow tribute and I would like to invite you two to sit with us at our table." He gestures to the smaller girl from his district.

"Why?" Kayn asks bluntly.

"I like to make friends," he replies easily. "I think if we team up, we'll have a good chance."

"Right until you slide a knife in my back."

"And mine," I chip in.

He shakes his head. "No, no. What I mean is: I want us to team up at the beginning. If we survive, then we can fight each other fairly."

"Yeah, right," Kayn says derisively. "Along with me being declared President."

"So, you _want_ to fight twenty-three people by yourself," Jak says in an amused voice, making me smile. "I wouldn't have thought of that myself." He looks at me. "What about you, Jewel? Unless you and … Kayn, isn't it? Well, unless you and Kayn have something worked out?"

I wipe the smile off my face. "How do I know you won't betray me?" I ask in what is meant to be a gruff, no-nonsense voice, but comes out as slightly worried.

"Ah, it's always been my dream to die surrounded by beautiful ladies," he chuckles, winking at me. "I won't hurt you or Skira." His gallant tone makes me laugh. "So, you want to join us?"

I consider it. Both of us can't live but he seems nice enough. And he's right: an alliance might make it easier for me to survive. I can always break it off if I have to or if Liss orders me to. "OK," I agree and then add menacingly, "but if you try to betray me, I'll kill you."

It's the first time I've ever seriously threatened to kill someone. I don't like the feeling.

He shrugs. "Fair enough."

"I'm coming too."

We look at Kayn who is glaring at Jak.

"Great," says the handsome boy, looking completely unperturbed at Kayn's change of attitude.

Kayn shrugs. "I want to win," he says. "And I'll do better in a group. But if either of you try to harm me, I'll break your necks."

And with that, Jak leads us over to join Skira. She introduces herself to us. I smile at her. Kayn merely nods and begins to eat his lunch. Jak then says that he is going to recruit the tributes from District 4 and walks off again.

During the five minutes that Jak is gone for, I make conversation with Skira. She's fifteen and nervous. Jak's been very nice to her. The whole experience is weird to her. I have a feeling that she's scared but she doesn't mention it.

When Jak returns with the tributes from District 4, I share the feeling. The boy is average height, skinny and sly – his name is Rashnid. The girl, however, is basically a mountain on legs called Hulde. She growls out that her only aim is to make sure she kills her opponents. I can't help feeling happy that I'm on her side at the moment.

Jak suggests that we start talking and laughing, in order to give ourselves confidence so we do, although we don't seem to talk about much. Mainly how winning will set us up for life and what weapons we can use. I think.

Jak turns out to be both smart and funny, although a little full of himself. Skira is the opposite: shy and quiet. Hulde is very angry and aggressive, while Rashnid is mocking. I have a feeling Jak would have been the only person I'd have been friends with in District One.

At one point I ask Jak what's so special about our group and he says, cheerfully, that we're the strongest tributes, plus Hulde volunteered. I point out that the boy from 9 also volunteered but Rashnid – who is eavesdropping – reminds me that he did it for his sister. Then I point out the boy from 10.

Rashnid shoots a glance over to the dark-haired boy. "Could be worth a shot, man," he says. "The more the merrier, that's what I say."

"Why don't we ask everyone in the room then?" I joke.

"Defeats the point." Jak laughs loudly. "Tell you what, Jewel. Why don't you go and ask him?"

"Me?" I squeak.

He winks. "I think he'd prefer a beautiful girl than a boy."

I shrug and get up, leaving my new 'friends' behind me. A few kids look curiously at me as I walk over to the giant. He studies me as I approach.

"Hi," I say nervously. "I'm Jewel Arram, District 1."

He nods back at me. "Korosh, from District 10."

"We were wondering whether you might like to join us," I say, gesturing at the table I just left. He studies the table. I look too, seeing Rashnid fruitlessly trying to get a response from Kayn as Jak and Hulde laugh about something.

"Thank you for the offer, but no thanks," he replies calmly.

"Why not?" The words are out before I can think about it. There are probably a lot of good reasons why not. I can think of five right now. So why did I ask him?

He smiles. "Tell me, Jewel, you can hear your friends, can't you?" I nod. "Tell me what they're fighting for."

"Well … I don't know. Haven't learnt telepathy yet."

"Honour and glory?"

"Maybe one or two of them," I say uneasily. "I mean, we all want to win, right? But," I add quickly, "that's not what I'm fighting for. I'm going to fight to get out and get back to District One." Why I'm explaining myself to him, I don't know. He has some calm aura around him, as though he's older than the rest of us. Older and wiser.

"Honour and glory don't interest you?"

"Not really. I mean, it'd be nice but I was doing fine without it." I shrug. "I already had what I wanted."

He nods. "Fair enough. But to me, your group looks like they want to gang up on the other tributes and that they might even enjoy this. I would only be in an alliance with people who are just trying to live."

I raise an eyebrow and grin. "Are you asking me to desert the others and join an alliance with you?"

He laughs a surprisingly warm laugh. "Do you want to?"

I consider it for a moment. In all honesty, I think I might prefer to work with Korosh – he seems like a decent soul – but my chances of survival will be better with Jak's group. Besides, Jak and Skira seem nice enough.

"No, thanks," I say ruefully.

He grins and sticks his hand out. I clasp it. "Good luck, Jewel," he says.

"And you," I reply. His warm, brown eyes meet mine for a moment before I let go of his hand and walk back to the table.

"He said thanks but he wants to go by himself," I tell Jak who shrugs.

Rashnid asks me something but I don't listen. Because something has just hit me, numbing my mind. I've broken Liss' first order: I've made all these people known to me. And now that I have, I can't bear to think about killing them.

* * *

I spend the afternoon with at least one member of the group. We all try spear throwing: Jak is great. Skira is awful. I'm average: I can throw it quite far but I only hit the correct spots if I aim about two metres to the left of where I want it to go.

The Gamemakers arrive shortly after this. They look surprisingly normal but it makes us all edgy to see them. I notice that they study every tribute at some point and discover that it's very weird to look up from jabbing a spear at a mannequin to see a stranger studying you intensely. I do my best to ignore them.

I learn about slings with Rashnid and Skira. They're the smallest of the six of us, although Rashnid is actually stronger than he looks. Then I join Jak in learning about wrestling and I do learn a few more moves.

By the end of the training session, I'm worn out. I now know a few more tricks but I probably won't remember them by tomorrow. I shouldn't have put so much effort into the physical side of it either.

At dinner, Kayn mentions our sudden increase in popularity. Liss looks at me and I can tell that I'm going to get told off. Or a lecture. I attempt to eat slower, to put off the inevitable shouting but the food is too nice and it doesn't really work. As I finish, I mentally curse Kayn's sudden entrance into the world of spontaneous speech. Actually, he's been pretty good at it today. But what a time to learn!

Liss stands up and tells me we need to talk about strategy. As I walk, I consider jokingly composing a will now but the only person here that I would want to leave anything to is Kayn and he's the one who's gotten me into all this trouble. Plus, I remember guiltily, we're not friends anymore.

This time, we go to Liss' room rather than mine which makes me think there must be something sinister going on. It's just as big as mine is, although it's a bit neater. She tells me to sit down in a chair. I sit.

"So, you formed an alliance," she says calmly. I decide that if there is a time to defend myself, it's probably now.

"I know you said not to speak to the other tributes but he spoke to me first," I babble. "And I thought, if we're working together I have more of a chance and I can always fight back if they try to kill me but six of us is better than one of us." I take a deep breath.

To my surprise, she nods. "OK, then. That does seem like a good tactic."

"It does?" I ask, startled.

"Yes. You can use the group to intimidate the other tributes and to make the Games easier for you, if you're careful and clever."

"Oh," I say as though I hadn't considered any of this. "I mean, yeah, that's what I thought."

She ignores my attempt at making me sound better than I am. "There is one thing I want to discuss with you though," she says.

"Shoot."

I don't think she likes the expression but she carries on anyway. "You're too nice," she says bluntly. "If you're going to get anywhere – especially with this group – you need to stop being so sympathetic.

"Jewel, what do you think of the tributes from District Nine? The brother and sister."

I think for a moment. "The boy's really brave to volunteer like that, to protect his family."

"And what about the girl from Eleven?"

I think for a moment. She's the other thirteen-year-old. "I feel sort of sorry for her. I mean, she's just a kid. She's the same age as my sister."

"No, Jewel. She's not," Liss says coldly.

"Yes, she is," I reply. "Check out the recap. Pearl's thirteen. And I'm pretty sure the girl is thirteen as well-"

"No, Jewel," she interrupts. "This is what I mean. You're thinking about these tributes and comparing them to yourself. You're sympathising with them. You need to stop thinking of them as human. Think of them as obstacles."

"Obstacles?" I echo, unable to believe what I'm hearing. I can't just stop them from being human. Isn't that how murderers think?

"Obstacles," she repeats grimly. "You want to get home and see your family again?" I nod. "Then every tribute is an obstacle between you and your family."

"I can't just think like that," I protest. "I'm not evil."

She studies me for a moment. "If you could kill someone, right now, and get away with it, would you?"

"Of course not!" I splutter, shocked that she thinks I would.

"If you would be paid money to do it, would you?"

"No!"

"If you either had to kill someone or let yourself die, would you kill them?"

To my shame, I actually have to think about this one. "No."

"If you had to kill someone or your sister would die, would you kill them?"

That one throws me. I can't kill someone for myself. But I love my sister – she means more to me than most people. "Yes," I say hesitantly.

"Then," she says quietly, "you can't say you have a line you will not cross." I blink at her, astonished. How did I get myself into this situation? "And that's how you'll have to think. If you don't win, you don't know what will happen to your sister. She might go mad with grief, we don't know. You have to kill to get back to her.

"That's when you present these people as objects. Don't think of them as being someone's son or daughter. Think of them as being between you and your sister. If one dies, you don't think 'oh, that's a shame'. Think 'one less tribute'. If you have to kill any of them, just remember: they're between you and your family. They aren't human. They'd kill you if they got the chance. You just have to kill them first. You can do it. You just need determination because you have no moral line."

I don't really like myself being described like that. She's making it sound like I can easily become a soulless killer. But as I open my mouth to tell her she's got it wrong, I think about what she's just said. If I'm willing to kill someone to save my sister, maybe I can kill anyone for any reason. And I suppose she isn't saying these things to annoy me. She's saying them to keep me alive in the arena.

But I'm not a murderer.

Maybe that's the point of these Games though. They want us to kill. Maybe I have to sink to their level. Maybe I have to see this as just another competition. Another time to come first, no matter how horrible it is. I make up my mind.

"Yes, Liss," I say dully. "I'll do whatever you say."

* * *

As I train on the next day, I try to follow Liss' advice. I don't focus on people's faces. When I see one of the smallest tributes trying to wrestle and falling over, I force myself to think that he's less of a threat to me instead of the sympathy I want to feel.

I decide to try a few more survival skills such as fire-setting and shelter-building. I'm alright at making a basic shelter but I soon discover that I should not be let anywhere near fire: it takes me a few tries to get one going and it extinguishes itself. When I try again, it spreads and I have to frantically put it out.

Since meat has to be cooked, I think my dreams of becoming a carnivore have just gone downhill. Looks like I'm surviving on water. At least I can become the new poster-girl for the 'Hunger' Games, since I'm going to starve.

I decide to practice with the mace, along with Hulde. She is strong but, I'm heartened to see, bad with the weapon. She gets frustrated easily and throws it away. Meanwhile, the instructor sees that I know how to use one and teaches me some of the more complex blocks and swings, as well as a better stance. A few tributes are staring at me and I know they're spooked. If I can get my hands on a mace, I'll be fine.

In the brief moments when I speak to the people in my group, I try to go with the flow of the conversation. I make them laugh, laugh at jokes which don't make sense and talk loudly but I'm barely listening. As Liss said, I don't want to know these people.

Unfortunately, Skira doesn't seem to have the same idea as me. She's the youngest of the six of us. And the nicest, next to Jak. Maybe it's a District Two thing. Anyway, as we eat our lunch, our conversation is dying out after going on a loop for fifteen minutes (so much so that I've started forming the words in my head. Jak is going to say 'But, of course, all is fair in love and war and I'm sure one of you three lovely ladies wants to fall in love with me'. He's said it three times) so, in an effort to revive it, Skira asks us all why we want to win the games. If we had one reason, what would it be?

We all look uneasily at each other before Jak smiles and tells us he wants to go home and see his baby niece but, if the Capitol wants to pay him to do that, he's not going to argue. We laugh. I say I have the same opinion as Jak, minus the baby niece.

Hulde says she wants the honour and glory that comes with it. She wants to prove that she's the strongest and nothing is going to stop her. She glares at us all. I have a sudden urge to assure her that we won't stop her except, of course, I'd be lying through my teeth. And I don't think she'd like that.

Skira says she wants the glory as well but she wants to fulfil a promise to her mom that she'd come home.

Rashnid is surprisingly serious. He says that if he hadn't been picked, he would have volunteered. His father is an old war veteran, retired from the Capitol, who thinks his son is a lazy waste-of-space who will never become a warrior. He says a warrior is a brave soldier who serves his country and has things like honour and values. Rashnid wants to win to prove to his father that he's not worthless.

It takes a lot of my concentration to stop myself from giving him a hug or even from feeling sympathy. And I thought _my_ father was bad. At least I know he loves me. I study Rashnid again, in a new light and wonder vaguely whether he's making this up. He's certainly sly enough. I decide I should keep that fixed in my head, whether it's true or not. I can't stop myself from feeling sorry for him though.

Finally, we ask Kayn. He shrugs but everyone presses and, finally, he gives in. But what he says shocks me. Completely. Because what he wants, if he wins the Games, is to be accepted. Simply that.

And I'm confused because I've always thought he was. I want to ask him what he means but we're called back for afternoon training, where talk is limited. Besides, I don't really want to talk about it in front of the others in case it makes me seem weak. Looking weak will do me no good; I need all the help I can get.

However, when we go back to our rooms, I can't hold it in any longer. Before he has the chance to go in his room, I blurt it out.

"What do you mean you want to be accepted?" I demand.

He shrugs. "I want to go back to the district and be a part of it. I don't want to be the son of a traitor. I want to be normal." Kayn's mother was one of many who were involved in the rebellion. She was executed when the Capitol re-captured District 1.

"You are normal," I say.

He shakes his head. "I'm not. I'm like Lev – I'm an outcast. I don't even look like a member of District One."

"What?" I say, confused. "You look fine. And you're not an outcast. You have friends. Remember us?"

He laughs mirthlessly. "You mean Ayla, Gleam and Calem? They're your friends, not mine. They only came to say goodbye because you asked them to. We sat in silence."

"That sounds a lot like their visit to me," I point out.

He gestures to my hand. "Yes, they gave me a gift too," he says mockingly. "Complete silence. You had Gleam's ring."

Well, I can't exactly deny it – he must have seen it before it was taken to be checked by the Gamemakers.

"And I bet lots of people came to say goodbye to you. Me? I had Lev, my family and your friends. I spent the last twenty minutes by myself." He laughs bitterly. "Trust me, Jewel. No one wants to know the son of Wenda Lazuli."

"That's not true," I say weakly.

"Listen, you and Lev were my only friends in District 1. Sadly, that's more friends than my sister has." He shakes his head. "So, what about you?"

"What about me what?" I ask, startled by the sudden change in conversation.

"Why do you want to win the Games?" He grins suddenly, a surprisingly mischievous smile. "There must be something you'd like, apart from being alive."

"Not really."

"I know you, Jewel," he laughs. "There is something. Just think about it."

I really should refuse but he's smiling and getting a smile out of Kayn is a bit like juggling four knives without hurting yourself. Difficult but not impossible. I glower evilly at him – making him laugh – and then put some thought into it. What would I like? Well, I'd like the money, I suppose. I guess I'd like people to know me. I'd like…

"I'd like people, especially my dad, to be proud of me," I tell him. "I guess I want them to stop telling me off for being me. Crap jokes are alright though," I add to automatically lighten the mood, the way I do when talking about something personal. "But I just want my dad to be able to have a conversation with me without snapping." I shrug. "If I win, maybe I'll make everyone proud."

I stop, surprised. I'm not really sure where that came from. I've never cared whether people are proud of me before. Or maybe I did. This is too confusing.

He nods. "Fair enough." He hesitates and then adds, "Jewel, you should be careful." I look at him, confused. I know I need to be careful. Why is he reminding me? "About the other tributes," he explains.

"Why are you telling me this?" I ask curiously. "I already know it."

"I don't trust them," Kayn says. "Not all of them are … being themselves."

If I had to pick one person to distrust, it would be Rashnid. But he's making it sound like all of them are lying about something. Or definitely more than one. "Why are you saying this?" I ask.

He looks at me. "Jewel, we're not meant to be friends," he says slowly, his voice barely audible, "but, until the Games … I am your friend. OK? I shouldn't be but I am. Right until we're in the arena."

And then he walks into his room before I can ask him where the sudden change of heart came from.

* * *

The next day is the day where we have to impress the Gamemakers. I attempt to learn a few new skills but I come back to the mace for extra practice. I try not to worry too much when I accidently let go of the mace and nearly knock out the boy from Six.

At lunch, we're sent into the canteen and a woman begins to call our names. For once, the boys are going first so I get to watch Kayn leave. He's very calm. The rest of us sit and talk, wondering what it's like for him in there.

After about fifteen minutes, my name is called. Kayn doesn't reappear. I attempt to look confident as I walk through the canteen although I do find myself muttering a prayer. Something along the lines of 'please don't let me knock a Gamemaker out'. I enter the training room with quaking knees.

The men and women look interested to see me. They tell me I can use any of the stations in the room to demonstrate how I can survive. Out of nervousness, I nearly walk over to the Edible Plants section. Thankfully, common sense (which has finally returned to me) prevails. I go to the maces

I quickly grab a mace and demonstrate patterns, getting more and more complex as I go along. I have one or two slips but, mostly, I seem to do it well. I then request a sparring partner and demonstrate my fighting skills. Firstly, we do blocks and swings then a sparring session. I lose the first bout but I win the second and finish the third with an impressive disarming move. Finally, the Gamemakers thank me and tell me I can go. I say goodbye to them.

As I head towards my room, I find myself feeling better. That could have gone a lot worse. And now I don't need to worry about it until tonight. For the first time in a few days, I feel content.


	5. Change Yourself

**Disclaimer: **I do not own The Hunger Games

**Geth342**: Thanks again for reviewing. I have to admit, i don't think this chapter is as good as others so sorry. The next update will hopefully be around 9th/10th but as i have exams on 11th and 12th, this may change. Anyway, i hope you all enjoy.

Chapter 5: Change Yourself

I decide to spend the afternoon relaxing on my bed. Liss, however, has other ideas and comes into my room. She spends the next few hours grilling me about every aspect of the day, especially the Gamemakers expressions. By the end of it, I can't help but think that Liss is far more challenging than the whole of training. She put me through my paces more than the Gamemakers did anyway.

I wonder whether there's a bright new future for her, working as a Gamemaker, but I don't voice it. There will be loads more kids competing here in future years; kids who have never done a thing to me. I don't want to punish them.

Dinner in the evening is more of the same. Athena and Titus are there as well, and all five of the adults are weighing up what they think we'll get. When asked for my opinion, I say I'm hoping for a twelve but no one realises I'm joking and I get a lecture about being too confident. Kayn takes the wise option: he shrugs.

After dinner, we go to watch the training scores. Just like earlier, the boy goes first. We wait with bated breath as Kayn's picture flashes up, then his score: nine. Kimre slaps him on the back in congratulations. He smiles slightly as everyone else says well done. I catch his eye and mouth 'nice one'.

Attention goes back to the screen as my photo flashes up. I'm preparing myself to make a joke about how a score of one just goes to prove I'm number one when nine flashes up. I grin as Liss congratulates me and then stay silent (because 'I'm number nine' doesn't have quite the same ring to it) while Kimre gives me a slap on the back too. Kayn winks at me which I hope means 'well done' but, with him, could mean anything really.

Skira gets a seven but Jak gets a ten. Kayn looks annoyed at this and I wonder whether it's a reaction to Jak beating him. Personally, I don't mind. I already knew Jak had better survival skills than me.

Hulde gets a ten as well but Rashnid gets an eight. All in all, the six of us have done quite well, especially compared to the tributes from Three. Most of the scores average a five, although I do notice that the boy from 9 gets a seven and Korosh gets a nine. The worst score is the girl from 6: she gets a two.

The adults tell us that we've done very well. They then decide to burst our bubble by informing us that although we have a good start, we will both need to put a lot of work in tomorrow, to prepare ourselves for interviews. The prospect of more work is annoying but at least I'm not going to be pointing at poisonous plants.

Duriem wakes me up the next day by cheerily telling me that today is a great day for learning to walk. He even laughs when I groan back that I've been able to walk for years.

At breakfast, Liss and Duriem say that they're going to do presentation and Kimre is going to do content. The mentors decide to start with their own tributes so I get to learn to walk first. Well, at least this should be easy.

* * *

I was wrong. Oh, boy was I wrong.

Presentation is not easy. First, I am taken to my room and handed high heels and a tight dress to wear. Then Duriem and Liss spend an hour teaching me how to sit. Apparently, the standard 'sit-on-bottom, do-not-squirm' variety which I've got to a T is not good enough. I have to sit with my back perfectly straight, legs crossed in a lady-like manner, hands in my lap and a smile on my face.

Well, at least no one can fault me on the smile.

Once I have managed to sit the way they want me to, they go on to talk about walking. Again, none of this 'one-leg-in-front-of-the-other, try-not-to-trip' nonsense. Oh no. A proper lady balances on heels and shows some flair whilst walking. After my third stumble, I ask them whether I can become a boy. That doesn't go down well.

"Stop fooling around and concentrate," Liss snaps. "You only get one chance to impress."

"Could I at least wear normal shoes then?" I ask. "So I can get there in one piece."

This earns me another round in the really big high heels. And that, in turn, gives me another meeting with the carpeted floor and an annoyed sigh off Duriem. I must be the first ever person to stop him from being cheerful. Despite everything, I feel quite proud of myself.

It takes me two hours to master this. We have one hour left and they use it to make me practice smiling, keeping eye contact and using proper hand gestures while blandly answering questions about the most random things. For example:

Them: Do you know about President Lincoln?

Me: No.

Them: Very good. Nice rueful smile.

I have never, ever, in my life, intentionally done a 'rueful' smile because I didn't know the answer to something. I think these four hours have gotten to them more than they got to me. Especially when they criticize me for tapping my fingers for two seconds.

By the end of the four hours, I have been deemed 'passable' but told that if Liss sees me tapping my finger in the interviews, she will personally snap them off my hand. When I ask her whether that would put her out of a job, she says she will do it anyway. There is a strange glint in her eyes and I think she might be serious so I force myself to be as still as possible during lunch.

Kayn is his usual, silent self so I have no way of telling how Kimre's part of the training will be. However, as it doesn't involve moving, I decide that it must be easier than what I've just done. Also, Kimre is less likely to threaten me with horrible injuries if I do something wrong.

After lunch, Kimre accompanies me to my room and we sit down. He smiles reassuringly.

"Well, Jewel, we're going to get an angle for you," he says. "Now the obvious one is likeable. So, just be cheerful and happy. I'm going to be the interviewer, OK?"

I nod. Likeable. I can do that.

"So, Jewel, tell me. What do you like about the Capitol?"

"I like the food and the rooms and the city and how beautiful everything is. It really is beautiful and …" I continue in this vein for quite some time. I keep on smiling and try not to wave too frantically. I stop when I realise Kimre is staring at me. "What?"

"I was wondering whether you were going to stop. You have three minutes. Try not to waste them." I apologise. "OK, how about this. Who's in your family?"

I start talking, determined to keep it short but, somehow, more and more things come to me. This time, he stops me himself.

"I said keep it short. Not tell me about your life story. How did you get onto your uncle from your sister?" He sounds astonished. "And how did your old dog get to be a member of your family?"

"I really liked him," I mumble.

He shakes his head. "OK, you're too likeable in a way. Let's see, we need another angle. One which will stop you from talking so much." He pauses. "Say, have you ever had a boyfriend?" I nod suspiciously. He grins. "Great! Right, you are now going to be seductive. Just like you were with your boyfriends."

"I wasn't really seductive, more … existent," I warn him. I don't think I've ever been seductive in my life. Both of the two boyfriends I have had asked me out. One dumped me because I didn't want to sleep with him. I think that's the opposite of seductive, really.

"Just pretend. OK, Jewel, what's been your favourite part of the experience so far?"

I try to imagine I'm with Geld again. I lower my voice, move my head to an angle and blink as prettily as I can as I try to answer. I force myself to stop quite quickly this time, but he doesn't look impressed.

"Have you ever considered being an actress?"

"No," I reply.

"Good," he says. "I believe you now. You didn't get your boyfriends by seduction, did you?" I probably should be annoyed at this but there's a hint of laughter in his eyes and I can't help but smile and shake my head back. "Right, well, new idea. Let's do a one-eighty. Have you ever considered being a ruthless killer?"

We try ruthless killer. Really, I should be fine at this considering Liss' lectures but I can't do it. I keep making jokes when what we're talking about gets too horrible. After this, we try sullen but I keep smiling and joking which sort of defeats the point. Vulnerable doesn't work because I start putting on a simpering voice. Sly is a no-go because I'm too blunt.

After two hours have gone, we finally hit the jackpot: calm and assertive. It's amazing because even Kimre regards it as a last resort but I actually get the hang of it. It forces me to be selective about what I say, I can be arrogant and modest at the same time, and as blunt as I want. Although I'm still not allowed to joke.

We spend the last two hours perfecting 'calm and assertive'. This involves me going over all sorts of answers, cutting out jokes and, once more, sitting still. By the end of the session, both Kimre and I are relatively confident. I can do this.

Kimre orders me to spend the rest of the time until the interview being 'calm and assertive'. He informs me that if he hears me making a joke, he will let me practice fighting skills with Liss. I think this is a low blow and tell him so in my most assertive voice, making him laugh. I hope that doesn't count as a joke.

Dinner passes quickly as Kayn and I are given extra instructions. After dinner, I have my evening talk with Liss where I tell her my interview angle and she tells me a few extra things to consider. She also decides to remind me that all the other tributes are obstacles and not human. I wonder if this is what soldiers are taught before they go to fight. Is this what they were told before they went to fight the rebels? Is that what the rebels thought when they fought the soldiers?

When I sleep, I dream that I've killed someone. I laugh about it and go to kill someone else but this person is Skira. She falls and the next person steps up: Ayla. I want to stop but my arm swings out and I watch as my friend falls to the ground. And still I laugh because that's the only way I know to deal with it. I keep going in this manner as more and more people – people I know and love – step up. Finally, the last person comes forward. I laugh manically as I lunge forward and kill them. And then I get a proper look at the body on the ground.

It's me.

* * *

The next day is interview day and I get to spend most of this with the stylists. I'm not particularly happy about it and Kayn looks equally annoyed at breakfast, but at least I know what to expect.

Thankfully, Nero finds less ways to inflict pain upon me and I actually manage to strike up a conversation with him and the other stylists. I find out he's engaged and expecting his first child in two months. He's always been interested in fashion and this is a dream job. It's exciting and pays well.

I don't think he's really thought about what's actually going to happen in the Games but, despite myself, I like him. He's nice, friendly and he sees the beauty in what he does, something a lot of people can't do. I can even forgive him for the torture he put me through at the Opening Ceremony.

Once I'm deemed ready, Athena comes in. Her face is pursed in its most 'no-nonsense' look as she immediately sets about brushing my hair.

Still in a happy mood from Nero, I attempt to make conversation with her too but every try is shot dead.

The team use some sort of spray on my hair which makes it shinier. After this, they colour my nails with shimmering paint and add sparkling jewels to my hand. When Athena says they look perfect, I make a joke about how all I have to do is stand outside and I can just blind my competition. Not only is she unimpressed but the smell of spray hangs in the air and seems to waft into my face. I apologise. (The team, however, appreciate the humour).

Finally, Nero and the others leave and Athena hands me my clothes. This time, I have a shining silver dress and gold high-heeled shoes. A bracelet for my right hand, a few more gems stuck on my face and I'm ready to go. However, we do have a few minutes before I actually need to leave.

"Thanks," I say cheerfully.

"You're welcome."

"So, you like this job?" I ask. "It seems like a nice one, if you like sprays."

"It's alright."

"I'd be awful at it," I admit. "I have no artistic talent or so everyone says. I personally think I'm not bad."

"That's nice."

I give up. Getting this woman to talk to me in a friendly conversation would be a bit like asking the President to let me off, just this once. Not going to happen. When she sends me off to meet Kayn, I am quietly grateful. Sitting in silence with her is actually quite annoying.

We meet the other tributes outside the interviewing room. Jak waves at us but, before he can say anything, a tall, broad-shouldered man arrives. He's got pale white hair, pale green lips and pale blue eyes as well as a purple suit. He introduces himself as Felix Telko and tells us he will be our interviewer for the night. The man reassures us, telling us exactly what to expect.

After he leaves, we are told to get into district order, girl/boy. Which means I'm first. I knew my luck was too good to last and so I walk to the front of the line, trying to look as calm and assertive as I can.

What does a calm and assertive person look like anyway?

We sit in a circle around the centre stage. The room has already filled up and soon, Felix bounds onto the stage and welcomes everyone to the interviews. He explains that this is to let people get to know the tributes. I try to focus, to remember that I don't get stage fright, that this can't be the worst part of the games. If only I could see what everyone else is going to do … I suddenly really hate the tributes from District Twelve. Lucky kids.

"So welcome our first tribute …Jewel Arram from District 1." I watch as the crowd cheers. Felix really does sound happy.

Wait a minute. He called for Jewel Arram. That's me!

I jump up and make a half-dignified, half-mad dash for the stage. When I walk onto the stage, Felix smiles reassuringly at me. I smile back and shake his outstretched hand before sitting down. OK. Three minutes. I can do this.

"So, Jewel. First tribute ever, hey. How does that feel?"

Annoying, but I can't say that. "Well, Felix, I think you should take it as a sign," I improvise rapidly. "First ever tribute, from District One, means I'm going to be the first ever winner." I stop myself from adding 'or the first ever death'. Calm and assertive.

He laughs. "Confident, eh?"

Good question. Well, pretty awful actually but … "No reason for me not to be. I'm an optimist."

"That's what I like to see. Optimism." He smiles at me. "You're my kind of person."

"Thank you," I reply, wondering how he's decided this from two answers. It occurs to me that saying I'm an optimist makes me seem like a chancer. Oops.

"Anyway, what do you like about the Capitol? What's the best thing, hmm?"

Right, I have an answer prepared for this. Now if I hadn't forgotten it, it would be perfect. Oh, well. No point worrying I suppose – I better wing it. "I quite like the showers," I say. It's the first thing in my head. What does that say about me? (Possibly that I'm a lunatic).

My answer gets laughter from the audience. Felix raises an eyebrow. "You like the showers?"

Now that I think about it, there's actually no way to come out of this without sounding stupid. And Felix isn't being a great help either. "Yes," I reply as calmly as I can. "They're very … functional. And relaxing."

What am I? The shower saleslady? This is going downhill so badly. Kimre's probably trying to deny all knowledge of me.

"So you're a girl who likes things to work?" he asks.

Thank you, Felix. I love you. "Yes!" I exclaim. "I mean, what's the use of something which won't work? Nothing. And that's why I'm going to win," I add. I can imagine Kimre putting his head in his hands. "Because I'm willing to put the work in." OK, now I _really_ sound like I'm selling something.

"Still confident?"

"Still an optimist." Which is good because this is awful. I don't care that I sound like a chancer; I need all the luck I can get.

He chuckles. "Any special boys back home, Jewel?"

"Nope," I say as cheerfully as I can, "but when I get back, I'll find someone."

"Ah, you'll _find_ a boy." He nods wisely, making me want to hit him. I didn't mean it like that. "A woman of many talents I see."

I shrug to cover up my annoyance. "You said it, not me."

"Maybe you can tell us if any of these talents got you that nine, hey?"

"They might have done," I say playfully, rather than seriously, pleased that this is going back on track, "but I can't tell you that. That would spoil the surprise."

"Surprise?" He pulls a face, making the crowd laugh. "You've got a surprise planned?"

"I like things to work for _me_. Not for everyone else." Which isn't actually true, but neither is me liking the showers and no one cared about that. "If I don't plan ahead, how can I win?"

"Watch out, I think we have a fighter on our hands!" he exclaims, making me blush. That wasn't how it was supposed to come out. "Next question: what do you want if you win the Games?"

Alright, what is it with everyone and asking this question? However, I prepared this one with Kimre and I decide to say it as calmly and assertively as possible. Because, quite frankly, it hasn't worked for the rest of the interview so I need one good moment. "The honour and glory for my district. What else is there to fight for?"

"Very true. Now, Jewel, what-" A buzzer sounds, signalling the end of three minutes. He smiles ruefully. "Look at that, that's the end. Well, thank you very much Jewel Arram. And may the odds be _ever_ in your favour."

I walk back to my seat as the audience claps politely. I suppose that could have been worse but, really, I'm not sure how. Showers. What was I thinking? And where did my strategy go?

Kayn goes up next and spends the three minutes doing his best not to speak. He's just as sullen as always. He answers some questions but tends to just stick to 'yes' or 'no', Felix tries to get more responses out of him but sort of gives up towards the end. I have to admit, it makes Kayn seem scary – he's managed to shock the interviewer into silence. Looks like he's going to get more sponsors than me.

I realise that every tribute is playing up some sort of angle. Jak is charming and gallant. Skira is humble (or being herself. I can't tell). Rashnid is sly and Hulde is a ruthless killer. Some tributes can barely get any words out and Felix has issues making them talk. The boy from 5 starts hyperventilating. The girl from 6 mumbles everything.

The boy from 9 is the most interesting and he makes full use of his volunteering to save his sister. His sister, it turns out, actually has problems speaking and her interview is comprised of her using sign language and poor Felix trying to understand it.

Overall, he isn't a bad interviewer, but some sentences throw him completely and he has trouble trying to work with them. However, I suppose he could be a lot worse.

* * *

The interviews finally end and we're taken back to our floors. After being scrubbed mercilessly by Athena, I am allowed to sit in the dining room and eat my dinner. Kayn has a similar 'scrubbed' look. Titus and Athena join us.

Everyone congratulates Kayn on his performance. I feel left out but I'm not exactly surprised. I have a feeling that my father was watching the interviews and shouting at me, despite me not being in the room with him. And being washed in silence has given me time to think about everything I said in the interview. It wasn't good.

Finally, attention turns to me. I pretend I don't notice and keep eating my dinner. Unfortunately, I've nearly cleared my plate so I start eating imaginary crumbs. No one is fooled.

Duriem congratulates me, saying my interview was very entertaining. I feel a rush of fondness for him. Even though we all know I messed up, he's such a cheerful person that he can't bear to say it. And he is trying to cheer me up. Kimre adds, somewhat uncertainly, that I did alright. Liss doesn't say a word and that catches my attention.

I look up from my plate and meet their eyes. None of them look impressed. Suddenly, I can't believe it. I went through all that training and I still couldn't get it right. How am I going to win the Hunger Games if I can't even get through one interview? I've just proved how incompetent I am. Great.

Feeling low, I excuse myself from dinner and go to my room. I can't remember the last time I felt so depressed. I know I felt sad when I was leaving home but not depressed. Everyone I know saw me on that screen and they all know that I'm going to fail. Tears form in my eyes. All this time, I've been acting like this is some sort of joke. Well, looks like the joke's on me.

Someone knocks at the door. When I don't answer, they open it anyway. I don't look up. Tears are trickling down my cheeks and I don't want my visitor – whoever it is – to see them.

My visitor doesn't seem to care about what I do or don't want (possibly because they can't read minds) and walks up to me. I glance up and then look away. It's Liss. I have a feeling she's going to tell me off for: a) messing up and b) leaving the dinner table.

"What is wrong, Jewel?" she asks calmly.

"Nothing," I mumble, still looking at the floor. It has a nice pattern. I've never noticed that before.

She sighs. "You are upset. Why?"

"I'm not upset."

"You are upset because of your interview," she says, ignoring my lies. "Why?"

"I'm n-not," I protest and then, unfortunately, my tears get the better of me. I rub my eyes in an attempt to stop the tears. Liss doesn't strike me as the sort of person who has any patience for crying people. So I get a surprise when she sits down and puts her arm around me.

We don't say anything for a while – she merely holds me until the tears have stopped. Once I'm calm, she speaks.

"Your interview wasn't as good as Kayn's but it wasn't bad. You said some stupid things, you acted a bit stupid." I'm not sure how this is supposed to make me feel better but before I can ask, she continues. "However, you didn't panic, you didn't cry. You answered every question and kept on smiling and, you may not have wanted it that way, but Titus didn't know your tactic and he thought it was 'confident' with just a few lapses. That's how you came out: confident and strategising. A bit silly but who's to say that's not a cover?" She gives me a squeeze. "Your interview wasn't the worst out there."

"I suppose not," I mumble, feeling better already. Maybe I did look better than I thought. And, who knows. Maybe one of the rich people watching the Games is a shower manufacturer. Or a lunatic. I'm good with either, really. Tentatively, I nod. She's right, in a way. And it's not as if there's anything I can do about it now.

She smiles with the first kind smile I've ever seen her do. "Good. It would do no good to see you moping. Anyway," she continues, suddenly business-like, "you've missed the interview re-cap, but what I want to do is go through last-minute instructions with you and then I think Kimre and Duriem would like to say goodbye to you."

It's sort of weird to think that the people who I've shared so much of my life with are going to be cut out tomorrow. And I'll be spending my last safe moments for the next few weeks (if not ever) with Athena. Who doesn't like me much. Still, I want to say bye as well, and thank both mentors and Duriem for helping me.

"Sure," I say. "I'd like that too."

She smiles and moves her arm off my shoulder. "OK then, Jewel. This is what you're going to do tomorrow…"


	6. Let the Games Begin

**Disclaimer: **I do not own The Hunger Games

**Geth342**: This is my longest chapter yet. I promise the next one will be a bit shorter. Anyway, thanks a lot for reviewing again. You all rock. Seriously. If i could hug you, i would. Anyway, next update will be 17th/18th, possibly earlier although i doubt it. I hope you enjoy :)

Chapter 6: Let the Games Begin

Kayn is still outside talking with Kimre and Duriem when I go to the dining room. Both men smile at me, pleased to see me looking happier. I grin back. If they realise I've been crying, they don't say anything.

Liss and Kimre go over last-minute advice. Kimre warns us that the Cornucopia is probably going to get very vicious so we'll have to have our wits about us. Liss reminds us that our companions can turn against us at any time. They both tell us that we will have to wait sixty seconds once the Games have begun or we will step on landmines. I shiver. What a horrible way to go. Finally, though, it's time to sleep.

Duriem gives me a hug, shakes Kayn's hand and tells both of us that we are a perfect pair of tributes to represent and he knows that he'll be working with one of us next year. He looks a bit watery-eyed as he steps back and I can't help thinking that, actually, I am going to miss his cheerful attitude. Although, if I win, I may come to hate it again.

Kimre holds out his hand but, as I grasp it to shake it, he suddenly pulls me into a bear hug. He wishes me luck in the arena before shaking Kayn's hand and clasping him on the shoulder. He thanks us for working so hard.

Liss surprises everyone by hugging Kayn, kissing him on the forehead and then doing the same to me. I know she has a soft side, but I thought that it was purely for comforting sobbing teenagers. She tells us we are a credit to our district.

Finally, Kayn and I head to our rooms. We look at each other.

"Guess this is the end," I say.

"Yes," he says. He starts to open his arms to give me a hug but then thinks better of it. The cameras of the Capitol are still looking at us. "Good luck, Jewel."

"And you, Kayn."

"I'll see you tomorrow then. Remember the group's plan."

"Yes," I reply. "I'll be the maniac rushing into the Cornucopia. Do me a favour. Be the maniac stopping me?"

He laughs. "Same old Jewel." Then he sobers up. "Goodbye, Jewel. It was nice…"

"Yes," I agree. "It was." Neither of us want to finish the end of the sentence. It was nice knowing you. Kayn shrugs and walks into his room. I walk into mine.

It's funny but, tired though I am, sleep is the last thing my body feels able to do. My mind tosses and turns as I think about tomorrow. Tomorrow might be my last day of life. All it will take is getting into one fight I can't win. And with Liss' strategy, that's quite likely.

Then again, I suppose I could die on any random day. The odds have increased but, really, there's nothing to worry about. I'll see it as an average day. And while I haven't had a day where I'm escaping death every other minute for a while, there were some days in the Rebellion which I spent hiding from arrows and soldiers. Yes, a nice, average day…

The upside of remembering this is that I lose most of my fear about tomorrow. The downside is that now I'm remembering my family. I haven't thought about them for a while and I feel guilty. What are they doing? Pearl's probably upset about tomorrow. Mom will be trying to comfort her. Dad will be so stressed out that no one in their right mind will speak to him. I miss them.

* * *

I surprise myself by waking up. So I did fall asleep, it seems. Athena is already in my room. Wordlessly, she hands me a dress and I put it on, before I am taken to the roof of the building. When a hovercraft arrives, I can't help wishing that Pearl was here to see this – after all, I told her I would ride in one.

A woman in the hovercraft sticks a needle into my arm. When I open my mouth to protest, she informs me that it's a tracking device, made so that the Gamemakers will always know where I am. Charming. They have no faith in me, apparently. What do they think I'm going to do? Run off into the middle of nowhere?

The ride takes about an hour. I look out of the window at the city with its beautiful buildings and crazily coloured people. If I get out of these Games, if I get the money, I think I'd consider moving here. It must be nice to be surrounded by beautiful things which you're not making.

They place me in an underground place called the Launch Room. Apparently, I will be the one and only tribute to use this room because after this it will be a historic site. People can come and look at it and marvel. I consider leaving them a message but decide against it on the grounds that I have no pen or paper. Instead, I wash, brush my teeth and eat the food they've given me. It's not as nice as the food in the Training Centre, but it's still tasty.

Athena hands me a package of clothing and I open it. She has just as little idea as I do as to what's in it so she surveys it keenly and tells me their uses in an absent-minded tone.

I have been given green pants with a zip halfway up each leg, to allow me to turn them into shorts. Athena says they're light and good for dealing with heat. I also have a white short-sleeved top – again, good for heat – and a blue coat with a hood. The coat is better for keeping warm which is somewhat puzzling. Where can we be going which is going to be hot and cold? The shoes are solid and the grip is designed for soft ground. Socks, belt and underwear have also been provided thankfully.

Once I'm dressed, Athena holds something out to me: Gleam's ring. I accept it and put it back on my finger, stroking the emerald. I promised to get this ring back to Gleam. I'm going to have to keep that promise.

After this, Athena and I are silent. She brushes my hair as I try to remember my advice from last night. This is just an average day in the Rebellion. All I have to do is watch out for lunatics with weapons. Besides, I have five allies. Of course, they want me dead too so…

OK, new target. If I get through the first day, I have succeeded in life.

A woman announces that in five minutes, the Games will begin. I jump when I hear the voice and then laugh at my nervousness. _She's_ not going to kill me. Still, I better stand on the metal circle. In five minutes, I'll be in the Games. In six minutes, I will be running to grab a weapon and kill people. In six minutes and thirty seconds, I might be dead.

Wait, I wasn't going to think about that.

I stand on the circle and look at Athena. I thank her for helping me during the preparation. She shrugs.

"That's alright," she says. "It was a pleasure." I stare at her. I've lost count of the amount of times she's scowled at me. I don't think it was a pleasure. Seeing my look, she smiles. "You're a nice girl, Jewel. I'm sure I'll have to put up with your attitude when you come back from the Games. Try to think of some better jokes."

This woman has gone from disliking me to deciding I'm going to win. What goes on in her head? "Thanks," I tell her.

She nods. "As I said: no problem." She looks at her watch. "You have one minute, by the way, so I'll say good luck now. You'll be fine, like I said."

"Thanks," I repeat. "Uh … I guess this is bye, then."

She nods again. "Goodbye, Jewel."

A glass cylinder comes down around me and I am suddenly transported upwards before I can say a decent goodbye. If I win the Games, I will have to apologise for that. If I die, then I will die feeling guilty. (Why am I suddenly feeling so calm about dying? I need a better attitude.)

I materialise on a metal circle, facing a giant horn. This must be the Cornucopia.

"Ladies and Gentlemen," booms a voice, "District tributes. Welcome. Remember, tributes, you must remain still for sixty seconds until the gong. Are you ready? Ladies and Gentlemen, I bring you … the first ever … HUNGER GAMES!"

I look around, trying to take stock of where I am. I'm standing in a circle. On my left is Rashnid. On my right is the boy from District Seven. Hulde is opposite me. We're in a clearing at the opening of some sort of jungle. Behind Hulde, I can see a sandy beach and the sea. To my right, the trees deepen and it's mostly dark. To my left, they thin out a bit and I can see the beginnings of a swamp. I wonder what's behind me.

I look at the Cornucopia again. There's food (so I'm hopefully not going to starve), medicine packs, tents and weapons. The further away from the Horn, the less useful the items are. I spot a few maces in the pile – only one is near the top – and can't help smiling. If I get my hands on one, I'll have a chance.

Just as I decide to take another glance around, the gong sounds. The Games have truly begun.

* * *

It's chaos. I lunge forward and then pick up speed, heading towards the pile, just like Liss said. Out of the corner of my eye, I see Rashnid looking determined. He reaches the pile before I do and scoops up a knife.

At the moment I reach the pile, the boy from 7 does too. He reaches for the mace so, without thinking, I pick up the first item I can find – a first-aid box – and swing out at him. Caught by surprise, he staggers backwards and drops the mace which I hastily pick up. I start to swing at him again but he moves away. I chase after him but he's too quick and someone on my right is lunging at me. I turn to deal with them.

It's the girl from District Seven. The one who I walked into at the beginning of training. Apparently, she hasn't forgiven me as she lunges ferociously at me with her knife. I turn and she gashes my left arm. I bite my lip as pain wells up. I always vaguely wondered what being stabbed would feel like and now that I know, I really wish I'd never found out.

Luckily, I'm right-handed. I swing my mace at her head but she ducks and stabs at me again. Hopping backwards, I aim lower and catch a glancing blow on her leg. Blood spots seep through her trousers and, high on adrenaline, I swing again. This time, I hear her cry out in pain as I smash the weapon into her kneecap. I falter, momentarily stunned. I don't think I've ever made someone sound that injured. I glance at her knee. I think I might be sick.

She must be used to being in a lot of pain because she senses my weakness and stabs at me with the knife. I start to move backwards and then watch in horrified fascination as her arm swings loosely, attached to her shoulder by a few shreds of skin. Behind her, Skira moves her axe back and swings at the girl's leg. She falls forward, screaming in pain.

I look at her and know that this time, there's no way she's getting back up. Both of her legs are ruined and she's nearly lost her arm. If she doesn't die naturally then someone will kill her in a matter of seconds. But, until either fate, she's going to be in a lot of pain. As I think this, another scream rends through the air.

I swing the mace at her skull in a death blow, killing her instantly. If Skira asks, I'll say I didn't want any more surprises from this girl. But I think we both know that the idea of leaving her to die in so much pain was unbearable.

I look again at the girl's mangled corpse and suddenly realise that I've killed her. It's the first time I've ever used that blow on something living and it really has done its job, She's only fifteen or so. She's tiny. She probably had a brother or sister, parents, friends … people who are sobbing at the sight of her body. And it's my fault. Bile rises in my throat. I'm a murderer.

Skira, looking just as ill as I feel, nudges me. Suddenly I remember Liss' advice. I can't think of her as human – she needs to be an obstacle. I try to imagine this girl is a mass murderer. When that doesn't work, I fix an image of Pearl and my parents in my head. That's who I did this for.

Feeling better, I look around for another tribute. A few metres away, I see a tall boy holding a small girl. It takes me a moment to realise that he's caught her fleeing with a pack of something. With a quick movement, he moves his arm across her throat and then drops her. The fourteen-year-old falls to the ground, bleeding. The boy quickly ducks down and stabs her before picking up her pack.

I decide that this boy is as good a target as any and start to run after him. Before I can catch up to him, the boy from 3 runs into me, knocking me flat on my back. As dirt coats my arms, I wince because it's now in my previously forgotten cut. If I survive, I'll have to remember to clean that. But I have a slightly more pressing problem – the scrawny boy who is currently sitting on top of me and is trying to strangle me. Panic wells up in my throat. He could kill me in a matter of minutes.

I struggle but find that he's well-rooted. At a loss, I lean forward a bit and try to bite him. It doesn't work. As I struggle to breathe, I try to move my right arm and suddenly the boy jerks upwards. I take advantage of this by swiftly sitting up, knocking him off me. There is blood on his top. I realise that one of the spikes on my mace must have dug into him when I moved my arm.

I grin from pure relief and stand up. He kicks out at my legs, knocking me back down. This time, when he comes near me, I repeat his trick, knocking him to the floor, and stand back up. Holding my mace upwards, I prepare myself to take my second life.

Just as I swing down, he rolls to the side. He uses the time I take to straighten up to throw mud in my eye. As I blink furiously, wiping my eyes, he runs forward. Without really thinking about it, I stick my left fist out, whacking him in the stomach. Winded, he turns and runs. I consider following him but I'm currently half-blind so it doesn't seem like a smart idea. I've got to hand it to him though. The boy's got a lot of spunk. Probably my sort of person.

I clear the mud away just in time to see Kayn duelling the boy who killed the little girl. At the exact moment that he runs the shorter boy through with his sword, Hulde appears behind the victim and swings her axe, beheading him. Kayn and Hulde look at each other with surprise. It would be comical if it wasn't so sick.

I look around to see what's going on. A lot of tributes have run away. The girl from 5 is wrestling with the girl from 11. I decide to leave them alone – best not to get involved in these things – and look for Jak. He's fighting the boy from District Eight, thrusting furiously with his spear. Even I can see that all this boy has to do is skip past the spear-point and he can finish Jak off.

Rashnid and Skira are fighting a boy whose district I've forgotten and a girl who isn't from the same district but, otherwise, I've forgotten as well. They seem to have teamed up together. I waver, unsure who to help, when Korosh settles it by stepping in front of me, sword ready. He nods politely at me and gestures to my right hand. I blink dumbly, proving what an idiot I am, before I realise that he wants to have a fair fight with me. Well, this is new. Liss never warned me about this.

I hold my mace in the 'ready' position and then we circle each other. He lunges forward so I parry and try to strike back. He parries. Another lunge, another parry. So our fight continues. I think the one thing we're both learning is that a fair fight between a mace and a sword is actually impossible … unless we want to learn to dance because this is great for footwork.

We've been duelling for ages with very little result. He's scored a few cuts, I've hit him lightly. My arms are beginning to tire. I don't think I can keep this up for much longer. I wonder if he would allow us to have a fifteen minute break. Of course, then everyone else would try to kill us so it wouldn't be much of a break…

I lose my balance, stumble forward and close my eyes, certain that I'm about to impale myself on Korosh's sword. When I hit the ground (for what must be the third time today) I wait to die before realising that nothing stabbed me. I'm still alive. Which means Korosh either moved the sword (but why would he do that?), got killed by someone or he ran off (just as unlikely as the first one).

I jump up as quickly as I can to face Korosh's killer. Blood trickles down my cheek and I lick it as I realise that Korosh isn't dead. Not only is he not dead but he's disappeared. Which is all very well and good for me but where the hell has he gone? Why did he leave?

I turn around in confusion, just in time to see Korosh chasing after the girl from Five. Exactly why he's decided he'd prefer to kill her rather than me, I don't know, but I'm not going to question it. I don't think I have the time.

It suddenly occurs to me that it's been a couple of hours since the Games began. How weird: it feels like just a few minutes. But before I can ruminate on all the time I've spent fighting, the girl who was fighting Skira charges into me. She must have given up on the fight. Then to my surprise – and amusement – she apologises.

I look at her warily and she blushes. Skira arrives and takes another swing at the dark-haired girl who scuttles backwards. I decide to lend Skira a hand but this girl is a lot quicker than I thought: by the time I swing, she's standing up and backing away. Suddenly, she calls a boy's name and beckons. Both Skira and I turn to see no one. When we turn back, she is running into the trees.

What is it with tributes and running away from me? It's surprisingly frustrating (I'm sort of ignoring the fact that if I were them and I saw a crazy girl with a mace, I'd be running off too).

Korosh is still running after the girl from 5 when Jak and Rashnid appear in front of her. Without a word, Jak grabs her and Rashnid stabs her with his knives. Jak uses his spear on her corpse, just to make sure she's dead. Korosh shrugs, turns around and spots me. He clearly wants Round Two.

Well, if he can run out of a fight with me, I can do the same to him. With a surprisingly snobby attitude (well, how many tributes would have it anyway?) I start to look for someone else.

There's a tall, skinny girl with blood streaming down her arm, running away to the trees. She's my new target, I decide. I chase after her. She stumbles near the trees and I catch up to her.

I smash the mace into her shoulder but she shifts, so it's not powerful enough. She surprises me by being armed with a club: it hits into my stomach and I double up with pain. I suppose I'm getting a taste of my own medicine now.

Did I ever mention that medicine rarely tastes nice?

Still doubled up, I run forward and catch her in a headbutt, knocking the wind out of her. Now there's two of us with sore stomachs. I use the time we're recovering in to sneak a glance around the Cornucopia. Korosh is running the boy from Seven through with his sword. At least that's more dignified than a first-aid box.

I freeze. I can't believe I just made a joke about someone being killed. That's wrong. What am I doing?

The girl is clearly untroubled by these thoughts (or she just isn't thinking them) because she charges at me, club raised. I have just enough time to parry it before she swings low.

Something hits her arm and she turns, surprised. I use the moment to leap forward and swing the mace at her face. It makes a sound like iron hitting meat when it connects and I have to fight back the urge to retch. She looks at me and now I really do feel sick. The spikes on my mace have torn huge gashes in her face. One has connected with her eye. She staggers towards me, blind and bleeding, so I swing the mace again, smashing her arm. Finally, I hold my weapon high and swing it onto the top of her skull with as much force as I can muster. The girl falls to the floor.

I wait for the shock of killing to hit me again but, this time, it doesn't. Well, not so much. All I feel is numbness because I killed her in self-defence. She had it coming. It was her or me. And now I know how easy it is to kill. I did her a favour, really, putting her out of her misery. And I'm one tribute closer to going home.

It scares me, how cold my thoughts are.

Skira nudges me. I realise that she was the person who threw the rock at my victim … I mean the girl. That's twice she's saved my life. I'll have to repay her somehow.

We head back to the main battle but there's not much left. Hulde is killing the boy whose district I _still_ can't remember while laughing savagely. Jak and Kayn are chasing after someone who has scarpered into the trees. Rashnid is fighting Korosh. And losing.

Without saying a word, Skira and I both rush to Rashnid's aid. I try to attack Korosh from the left, Skira from the right. Seeing our tactic, Korosh backs away, towards the swamp. Suddenly, he ducks down, scoops up some rocks and hurls them at us. As we wince away, he runs into the trees.

We turn back to see Hulde attempting to throttle Jak. I walk over to her and pull her arm. She whirls around, axe ready.

"Hulde," I gasp, "it's me. Jewel. Remember me? Girl from District One, on _your_ side? If you kill me, I'll have to kill you back and neither of us want that."

She falters and then shrugs. "Sorry," she grunts. "Thought you were someone else."

Well, that's reassuring. She's supposed to be my ally and she can't remember what I look like. I wonder if Korosh's offer is still open … probably not since I just tried to kill him. That sort of thing tends to throw a damper on relationships.

"Are we the only ones here?" Kayn asks.

"Looks like it," Jak answers. "Guess we won." He smiles. "I vote we cheer."

"I vote we skip it," I reply.

"I second that," gasps Rashnid. We look at the boy, who is clutching his leg. "I hate that District 10 boy," he grumbles. "He's bloody vicious."

Jak laughs. "Serves you right for challenging him."

We laugh and then look around. We're surrounded by bodies. It's weird – we're laughing and joking and we're surrounded by people we've killed.

"What do we do now?" asks Skira quietly. She looks green. I don't think she's coping well with the sight of death. Not that I'm doing much better.

Jak considers this for a moment. "Well, they need to get the bodies so we should move away a bit. If we grab some stuff, we can heal ourselves up." He looks around and suddenly grins. "Let's go to the beach!"

"Who died and made you boss?" Rashnid jokes. Then his words hit us.

"All these people by here," Jak replies airily, gesturing to the bodies. "Their last words were 'Jak is your leader'."

It's not funny at all but suddenly we're laughing as though it's the most hilarious thing we've ever heard. Even Kayn. I think it's from relief that we've actually survived.

"I say we go tribute hunting," Hulde says suddenly, her voice eager. "We can catch them unaware."

"I say let's not," I reply.

She whirls around to face me. "Why?" she hisses furiously.

I shrug carelessly, trying not to think that she could kill me in less than a second. "Well, we don't know where they are and we need to guard this stuff. Also, I want to fix up my arm." My arm starts to throb, now that I've remembered it. "You might want to do the same for your arm and leg but, if you want to go, I'm not stopping you." I smile. "If you get somewhere without dying from blood-loss, send me a letter, would you?"

For a moment, she's so angry that I think she's actually going to kill me. I always knew my tongue would get me into trouble one day. But then she stops and laughs loudly.

"Good point, District One. Let's go." This seems to be the signal for all of us – everyone walks over to the pile of items and picks items up. I choose a first-aid kit, some bandages, a pack and food. And water because I'm _really_ thirsty now.

We head to the beach and, as soon as we've sat down and begun to open our packs, a cannon fires. I count the shots. Eight.

"So, have eight people just died, or did we kill eight people?" I ask, opening my first-aid kit. Excellent, there's anti-septic in here. I open the bottle and put some on my cut, wincing as it goes in.

"If eight more people just died, I think we're doomed," Jak replies, laughing. "Must be some sort of monster in here."

"Eight cannon shots for eight dead bodies," Kayn tells me. "I counted."

I nod in thanks and decide to focus more on healing myself. As we patch ourselves up (I'm glad I took a roll of bandages because I'm awful at making them. It takes me three tries to bandage my arm), we discuss our next move. Obviously, if we stick together, we have a better chance of winning. There's still ten tributes at large in the arena although we're not one hundred percent sure who they are, except that Korosh is one of them.

I start eating the dried fruit I've taken as we decide that we can rest for a while and start to hunt when it darkens. Then Rashnid points out that we can't see in the dark which brings us back to square one. Finally, we decide to start the hunt tomorrow, when we're fully ready. We'll go back to the pile in the Cornucopia and people can stand guard. Jak and Hulde volunteer.

Just as we've made this decision, another cannon goes off. Instantly, we're on our guard, looking around, but no more hovercrafts come near us so we know the killing was somewhere else. We relax again.

The end of the afternoon passes smoothly enough. We spend some of it talking, some of it practicing with weapons and some of it in silence. If we're being filmed, everyone must be bored out of their minds.

If we've been filmed since the beginning, my family saw me in the fight. They saw me kill two people. They saw me laugh about it. What do they think of me now? That question is too uncomfortable so I brush it from my mind.

At night, the anthem plays. We all gaze at the sky, looking to see who comes up.

First, the girl from District Three. Only her photo and district are shown, but I recognise her as the little girl who died from a cut throat. My heart goes out to her before I remember that if I want to go home, I would have had to kill her anyway.

The girl from 5 is next. That makes sense, since Hulde and Rashnid are here. Then the boy from District Six (_that's_ the district!). Both from 7– I recognise the girl I killed. Then the girl from District Eight, who turns out to be my other victim. The girl from 9, the girl from 11 and, finally, the boy from District Twelve.

I count them off on my fingers. The only one I don't remember seeing at the Cornucopia was…

"The girl from District 9," Jak says thoughtfully. "That was the cannon shot we heard earlier."

But that doesn't make sense, I think. That can't be right.

"Didn't she have a brother?" Skira asks quietly, voicing my thoughts.

"Yeah," Rashnid replies. "Yeah, she did. Man, I wonder what happened to him. Wasn't he 'the big, scary protector'?" He laughs. "He didn't do a good job, did he? Man."

"Unless …" Skira licks her lips. "Unless he was the one who killed her."

We all trade looks. Everyone, even Hulde, looks uneasy. He said in his interview that he would die before he let anyone lay a finger on his sister. Now she's dead and he isn't. Which means Skira is right. He must have killed her.

None of us say another word as the fire-light grows dim. We're all lost in our own thoughts. But I think I know what those thoughts are. Because I'm definitely not the only one who's sitting here and thinking: what sort of thirteen-year-old volunteers for the Games and kills his own sister?


	7. Hunt for Other Tributes

**Disclaimer:** I do not own The Hunger Games

Geth342: Thanks again for reviewing. Did i mention how much i love you?

Slight issue, updating-wise. I'm away from 22nd - 28th June or so, so i'm going to attempt to update on 21st. If that doesn't happen, the next update should hopefully be on 28th. Anyway, i hope you all enjoy. I warr you, this chapter's a bit random.

Chapter 7: Hunt for Other Tributes.

I sleep badly. All through the night, I am haunted with images of the two girls I killed and while it's easy to ignore them when I'm awake, it's harder when I sleep.

I wake up quite early – only Jak is awake, holding a flashlight which he must have been using during watch. To my surprise, it's cold, so I put on my jacket. At least I know why they gave it to me now. When he sees me, Jak waves and smiles crookedly. I walk over to join him.

For a while, we say nothing which is surprising. Out of the six of us, Jak and I get on the best and we can usually have long conversations. But I can't think of anything to say to him – I'm trying not to think at all, really.

"Nice sleep?" he murmurs, breaking into my thoughts (or lack of).

I shrug. "I've had better."

"Damn," he says. "I knew they missed out the mattresses."

I laugh. "You mean mud isn't to your liking?"

"Nope. Give me a nice, spiky rock anytime."

"Want to borrow my mace?" I ask, getting into the joking. "I hear they're all the rage in District 13."

"Ah, yes, just where I was going to spend my holidays. Still, this was a good back-up. Nice and cold." He shivers dramatically.

"And you get to sit up for hours and watch for people who want to kill you," I add cheerfully. "We really won the big time, Jak."

He chuckles and, suddenly, relaxes. I lean back against the Horn, smiling. For a minute or so, I'd forgotten all about the dream. But then it comes crashing back to me and I shiver.

"Cold?" Jak asks. "I can always warm you up…" He winks at me.

I laugh. "Do all boys have just one thing on their mind?"

"Possibly." He grins. "Not cold?"

"No. Just thinking." I smile ruefully. "A dangerous thing, I know."

"About what?"

I shrug, not wanting to share my dreams with him. "Stuff."

He nods. "You know," he says suddenly, "I was thinking too. Remember that joke I made, after the battle? About being the leader?" I nod. He looks slightly embarrassed. "That was out of order, wasn't it? I shouldn't have joked about them dying."

I fight to keep my face neutral. He looks so unsure, completely different from the confident boy I'm used to seeing. "Well, we shouldn't have laughed either," I reply. "I guess we were all just relieved."

He nods but, before he can say anything else, Rashnid wakes up and wanders over to us. He brings up what our plans for today could be, while Hulde and then Skira wake up.

For some reason, the weather becomes very hot. I don't really notice - even though I've taken my jacket off and turned my pants into shorts - until Kayn wakes up. My former friend is still half-asleep when the weather suddenly changes to freezing again. As we all put our warm clothes back on, the clouds disappear and it warms up. To my amusement, Kayn, who was halfway through putting his jacket on, takes it off again and makes his pants into shorts without a single comment.

And then it starts to freeze. Again. As Kayn obligingly changes again, I decide to stick with my heat clothes. I am not wasting energy changing my outfit all the time.

Then it snows. Considering we're in a jungle, it's surprising.

"I always thought jungles were hot, man," Rashnid grumbles. "What's up with this?"

"You don't want to make a snowman?" asks Jak.

"How about a snowball fight?" I add, grinning.

"Snow is good for tracking," mutters Hulde. "This is very good."

"Unless we freeze to death," adds Skira who I'm beginning to realise is a pessimist.

As though we're being listened to (ignoring the fact that we _are_ being listened to), it stops snowing and then sun shines. Kayn changes back again. He still hasn't said a word. I decide that I'm going to take action. I am going to be ahead of everyone else, weather-wise. I have one pants leg as a shorts leg and one as a proper pants leg. I put my jacket on but don't zip it up. I also take my boots off, take one sock off, and then replace the boots.

Everyone finds my idea hilarious and Rashnid wastes no time in telling me how ridiculous I look. Kayn silently hands me a reflective piece of metal. I look like an idiot. But I am a well-protected idiot.

"Very nice," Jak murmurs, "but what do you do if your left leg freezes and you have to cut it off?"

"Hop," I murmur back. He chuckles.

Luckily, the weather has been sunny for five minutes which we all take as a sign that it's going to stay constant. The person in charge of climate has probably learnt how to control it. Or he's not drunk anymore. I wonder, vaguely, whether it's April Fool's Day, until I remember that it isn't April.

"Do we hunt?" asks Kayn.

"Yes!" growls Hulde. "Let's hunt."

We all start to arm up, until Skira – clearly the sensible one out of the six of us – points out that if we all go, someone else might try and take over our pile. We consider the possibilities of this and decide that one person should stand guard while the other five hunt. In about six hours, the hunters will come back and swap the guards around.

I volunteer to stand guard. I haven't really gotten over killing those two girls yesterday and I want to minimise the amount of killing I have to do. Luckily, Jak decides he's seen the real motive: he says I want to get out of standing guard during the night. I don't argue with it.

Before they leave, Kayn whispers to me that I should set some sort of trap up, in case a tribute comes from behind me. I thank him for the advice and don't remind him that I can't set up traps very well.

Once the others have gone, the clearing becomes quiet and I start to feel slightly edgy. I was fine when I was with the other tributes but now that I'm by myself, I feel vulnerable. It also occurs to me that I'm an idiot because I hate doing nothing. And I've just signed up to do six hours of it in front of a camera. This is even more stupid than the shower incident in my interview.

To combat my idiocy, I decide to take Kayn's advice and set up a few traps. Mostly nooses on nearby trees. Then I remember that if my companions (I don't suppose I can call them friends) come back, they will be caught in the noose.

If? I mean when.

I resolve to take down the traps near the end of my six hour shift and decide to write it down. Well, it's a good idea, up until I remember that although the Gamemakers have provided plenty of items for us in the arena, writing equipment isn't one of them. I suppose you wouldn't get many people who would stab each other to death with pens. Although it's probably possible. If I win the Games, I shall have to mention that one.

Trying not to dwell on my sudden dream of becoming a Gamemaker's advisor, (how depressed must you be to do that anyway?) I take a walk around the Horn, scanning the trees. I complete my circuit. Absolutely nothing.

I continue in this vein for the next few hours. Around my fifth lap, it occurs to me that I should have some sort of long-range weapon in case I spot a tribute, so I pick up a bow. On my thirteenth lap, I decide that I should actually check that I can fire it properly. If I try to use it and prove completely incompetent, my only hope will be if the tribute dies of laughter.

I can fire the arrow but my aim isn't brilliant. Still, I can generally get it in the vicinity of my target which is better than nothing. I take to walking around with the bow in hand. My mace is thrust through my belt. As long as I don't fall over, I'll be fine.

I take a break after … lots of laps (I lost count) and wonder vaguely what is being shown on the television screen. I have no doubt that I'm not appearing anywhere on it because only someone with nothing better to do would like to watch me walk around in circles. Well, I suppose my family might want to see me do that, just to know I'm alright, but everyone else will want to see some action.

Thinking of my family makes me wonder what they thought about yesterday. They must have seen me killing at least one of those girls. My friends too. I wonder what they think about me. I shake my head to get rid of those thoughts. I can't think about the people at home or I'll lose concentration. And as Liss said: a distracted tribute will be a dead tribute.

I stand up, determined to concentrate only on one thing: winning. With my new plan in mind (or, rather, old plan. It's not like I came in here with a death wish) I scan the trees, waiting for an invader.

Despite my concentration, I'm surprised when I do see someone. The boy from District 9. He's heading towards the clearing purposefully and I know that I'm going to have to kill him. Reluctantly, I pick up my bow. This is sort of cold-blooded, really, and I'm not sure if I'm up to it.

The image of his sister floats into my mind and I suddenly remember that this is the kid who killed his own sister. With that thought, I take aim, but the boy chooses that moment to notice me and the bow. He turns and moves to the side at the same time I fire the arrow. It misses.

Annoyed, I grab my mace and begin to run towards him. For a moment, it looks like he's going to fight me but suddenly he hears or sees something and, without another glance in my direction, runs off into the darker trees and towards the area I had been standing in at the beginning of the Games. I briefly consider giving chase but the whole point of my being here is that I keep guard of all the stuff in the Cornucopia.

Besides, what was he running away from?

That thought sinks into my mind and I'm instantly alert again, scanning the trees, the beach, everywhere. But no one comes and I'm forced to believe that he's as nervous as I am and will run from any sound.

Eventually, the other five tributes return. This is marked by Rashnid asking who had put such bad traps on the trees (which I had forgotten to take down). All five of them look slightly tired but, otherwise, nothing bad appears to have happened to them. I nearly ask them if they found anyone until I remember that there was no cannon.

We rest for about half-an-hour. During this time, Rashnid tells me about his new discovery. He takes out a pair of sunglasses from his pack.

"This is amazing, man," he says. "Try these on."

"I've seen sunglasses before, Rashnid."

He laughs. "Not like these you haven't. Try them on already."

I try on the sunglasses, mainly to get him to shut up, and take them off after a few seconds. They're not like any sunglasses I've ever seen. For one thing, I can barely see through them which seems to defeat the point.

"Um, Rashnid?" I say carefully, not quite sure how to say this without hurting his feelings. "They're broken."

Everyone starts to laugh, leaving me very confused. What have I missed? Eventually, Rashnid says, "They're not broken, man. Well, I don't think so. I reckon these are for seeing in the dark."

"Like carrots?"

"What?" No one gets the joke so I tell them not to worry. "We're not sure but imagine how cool it would be if we could see in the dark."

I smile at his enthusiasm. "Are there any others?"

"Not that we can find," Jak says.

"So we have one set of eyes between us," Kayn surmises. "That's helpful."

"How do we work out who wears them?" asks Skira.

"I found them. They're mine!"

"Why just yours?" Hulde asks menacingly. She draws her axe. "Why not mine too?"

Rashnid sneers at her and draws his knives. I decide now is a good moment to diffuse them. "How about we wait until we know they work?" I ask. "There's not much point in arguing over broken sunglasses. Unless you like arguing."

Both of the District 4 tributes consider this and then, slowly, lower their weapons. I wonder how they got through the last six hours if they're both that prone to drawing their weapons. And now that I think about it, why did I stop them? If one of them had killed the other, that would be one less tribute for me to worry about.

It occurs to me that Liss' training can't have had much effect on me if I'm walking around saving people's lives. Well, that's confirmed it. I'm Panem's first useless tribute. Glad to see I'm good for something.

We decide to start hunting again. Rashnid, Kayn and Skira draw straws (well, leaves) to see who will have the thrilling job of guarding our stuff. Rashnid loses and sits on the floor sulkily, waiting for us to leave.

They've already covered the area with the dark trees so we decide to head to the area which was behind me at the bloodbath. As we walk through the trees, Kayn tells me that the area they covered seems to lead to a mountain but they didn't go up it.

Apart from that, there is very little talking. Hulde leads us with Jak and Skira behind her. Kayn and I are more towards the back. We maintain silence because that's the best way to hear other people and to make sure other people don't hear us. It takes a lot of my concentration to stop myself from starting up a conversation. The silence is deafening.

We spend a lot of the journey hacking our way through bushes. Some are prickly and some are just annoying. Insects buzz all around us and I find myself feeling glad that, at some point during the day, I put insect spray on. (Just to see if it smelt good). (It didn't).

About two hours into our journey, we discover something: Skira's excellent at tracking. She notices some crushed grass and a fresh boot print which the rest of us overlooked. She then leads us on this new track, pointing out small signs which I would have considered meaningless – a pebble kicked out of a stream, a gash on a tree where someone tested a blade, a berry plant missing berries. Jak jokingly names her queen of the trackers, something I agree with. Hulde merely scowls.

Following this trail, we walk in a strange zigzag pattern, as though our victim was running away. I remember that this was the direction the boy from District 9 had been running in. I wonder if we're going to catch up with him.

We're so focused on tracking that none of us notice the three tributes in the clearing until Skira walks into one of them. She squeaks, startled, and hops backwards. Instinctively, I raise my mace and then study our opponents.

Korosh is there with two younger boys – the tribute from 8 whom Jak had been fighting and the boy from 3 who had attempted to throttle me. The three of them look equally shocked to see us. Then, suddenly, the boy from 3 speaks.

"That's the last time I listen to you," he grumbles. "You said the noise was in the other direction."

The boy from 8 holds out his short sword and shrugs. "I thought it was. But hey, this is _way_ more fun. I think this is an experience."

As we start to split up – Jak to cover the boy from 8, Hulde and Skira to attack Korosh and Kayn and I to attack the boy from 3 – Korosh chuckles. "You are a lunatic, Briar. How is this 'an experience'?"

I dash forward, swinging my mace. District Three boy ducks. Kayn runs into him.

"I always wanted to fight more opponents than I need to," the boy (Briar) calls back. He laughs. "And, hey, it's my buddy from the Cornucopia. How you doing, mate?"

Jak doesn't reply but the boy doesn't seem to be put off. In fact, he laughs louder. As I remember, his interview told me he was insane. Clearly, he wasn't playing up the crazy angle.

The boy from 3 decides to remind me of his existence by slashing at me with his knife. Kayn knocks me out of the way before he can complete the blow, and turns back to him.

As I skip forwards, determined to make an end of this – there's _two_ of us! It should be easy – the boy has different ideas. He flings a sharp rock at us, making us duck, and uses this time to flee back into the trees. Korosh and Briar notice his disappearance.

"There ya go," Briar says cheerfully, dodging a spear thrust, "I told you that guy wasn't trustworthy." He chuckles.

Korosh parries an axe blow from Hulde. "Fine, fine, point taken. We'll trust your judgement in future." He sighs. "Sorry."

I join Jak in fighting Briar. Upon seeing me, Briar nods his head in acknowledgement before swinging his sword at me. Bemused, I try to parry it. I can't tell if he's genuinely crazy or just acting stupid.

Why do I get the feeling this is what I was like at home?

Kayn has joined Hulde and Skira in fighting Korosh. Briar chances a glance and sees what's going on. And then he does something completely brave. Or stupid.

"Hey, Kor," he calls, "you having fun there?"

"Not … really," the taller boy pants.

I swing at Briar who catches my mace with his blade. He doesn't seem unduly bothered. "That's a pity," he calls.

"Yes."

Briar hacks at Jak's spear. I use the opportunity to hit his arm.

He doesn't give any sign of feeling pain so he's obviously used to this. "Well, Kor, you're gonna have to keep trusting that crap judgement of yours." He laughs. "If you're not enjoying this, better leave it to someone who is."

"What?" Korosh calls but instead of answering him, Briar suddenly twists and charges towards Korosh's attackers. Startled, they fall backwards. Jak uses the moment to thrust again at the boy, catching him in the leg.

Korosh seems to understand his ally's message and runs away from us. As he runs, I think I see something wet on his face but I'm pre-occupied with Briar who is slashing at us like a maniac. And all the time, he keeps on laughing.

Jak leaps on Briar, gripping his injured arm. As the smaller boy winces slightly, he loosens his grip on his sword which Jak promptly wrests out of his hands. With one quick thrust, he jabs the blade through Briar's back.

Briar lies there for a moment, gasping. He chuckles. "Lots of fun, that. Good … to see … that I'm not the only … nice to …" He breaks off, laughing weakly. "Fifteenth … place … what a … what a score." He laughs again. "Lots of … fun."

His eyes flutter shut and he stops moving. I hear one more laugh escape his lips before silence. Then the cannon fires, signifying the death of the tenth tribute of the Games.

With that, we head out of the clearing, applying slapdash bandages to ourselves. The wound on my left arm has decided that now's a great moment to re-open itself and my attempt to bandage it now is worse than my earlier attempts.

Everyone else is having the same problem so we stop. I turn and watch Briar's body float into the air. I'm waiting to feel something – pity, remorse, anger – but all I can think is 'one tribute less'. And even though that's what Liss told me to do, it scares me. It also occurs to me that he's the first dead tribute I've actually known the name of. Surely that should count for something? But it doesn't. I can't shake the main idea – I'm one tribute closer to going home.

Once we have all stopped ourselves from bleeding to death (always a good thing, I suppose) we begin to follow Korosh's tracks again. Because a half-done job is not a well-done job, according to Jak. I resist the urge to point out that, if we're going to be numerical, surely we only did a third of the job: the boy from 3 ran away.

We don't catch up with Korosh because Skira remembers Rashnid, whom we have left back at the Cornucopia. This means we have to go all the way back again. Hulde is annoyed but Kayn points out that we did get one person which is better than nothing. I want to ask him when he became an optimist but we're still being silent in case we find any other tributes.

We don't find any other tributes at all. In fact, if it wasn't for the fact that I know there are eight other tributes wandering around the arena, I would think there was only us here. By the time we arrive back at the Cornucopia, it's getting dark. Rashnid greets us by telling us that his sunglasses work in the dark (so I guess they're actually nightglasses). This means we have to make a new plan.

Our new plan is to venture out in the morning, sleep in the afternoon and go hunting again in the night. This sounds to me like a game of 'follow my leader' because only one of us will be able to see. I don't object, mainly because I don't have a better idea. I suppose I was always quite fond of games anyway.

Apart from these Hunger Games. They don't count.

Skira and Kayn are the only two who haven't done guard duty, so they get to do it tonight. Skira first then Kayn. They take the opportunity to fall asleep, while Jak, Hulde, Rashnid and I talk a bit more about possible tactics. After a while, Jak is talking to me, and Hulde and Rashnid to each other. For a pair of people who were five seconds away from killing each other earlier, they get on well.

I glance at Kayn sleeping, in one of the lulls of conversation. He doesn't seem to be suffering from bad dreams like I did last night, but I notice that he's frowning in his sleep and his hands are half-clenched. I guess there's no easy way to relax here.

When the anthem plays, the four of us look to the sky. I don't know why – we already know who was killed because we did it – but we do it anyway. As I look at the picture of Briar, I wait to feel something.

A slight feeling of remorse but nothing else. No one else seems particularly bothered either. I wonder what their mentors told them.

Eventually, Jak says it would be a good idea to go to sleep and wakes Skira up. As we pull out our sleeping-bags, I knock my arm against something and it begins to throb. Probably needs a bandage change. While Skira picks up the flashlight and goes to find a comfortable position, I signal to Jak to not put out the fire yet so I can inspect my arm by the light.

My cut looks weird. Maybe it's just the flickering light but it has a strange tinge to it. I use some more anti-septic on it but nothing changes, except my arm stings even more now. I study it again. Maybe it's just my imagination. There's nothing in the wound, I'm sure of it. Although it does have that strange tinge. And dirt might have gotten into it when I fell over…

"How long does it take to change a bandage?" Jak calls.

"Sorry," I call back and hastily re-wrap a new bandage around my arm. Now that I can't see the cut, I feel better. I'm sure I can wash anything out of the wound in the morning. And even if I can't, the worst that will happen is I'll have to cut it off. That won't kill me. It'll hurt but it won't kill me. Hopefully. No, I decide as I get into my sleeping-bag. I'll be fine. Anyway I promised my family that I would survive. Not that I would survive in one piece.

Besides, I find myself thinking as I drift off to sleep, I never liked my left arm that much anyway.


	8. If At First You Don't Succeed: Improvise

**Disclaimer:** I do not own The Hunger Games

**Review reply to echo ()**: Thanks a lot. I'm glad you like it. By the by, if you want another first Hunger Games story, laxgoal13 has written one called 'Hunger Games Premiere'. Anyway, thanks again and i hope you enjoy this next chapter.

**Geth342**: Sorry about the long update time, but this works out quicker overall. Anyhow, wow! Lots of reviews. Thanks! This chapter isn't so great but i hope you enjoy nevertheless. I'm hoping the next chapter will be up around 8th July, but i'm doing work for the school and this might be difficult. Anyway, i hope you enjoy!

**NOTE: If this is 8th July and there's no new chapter, i'm really, really sorry but i haven't had access to a computer. I'm doing work for the school production and appear to living in my school hall ... I'll update as soon as i can. Sorry!**

Chapter 8: If At First You Don't Succeed, Improvise!

I am woken up the next morning by two things. The first is something hitting me on the head. The second is my arm beginning to throb painfully. I wonder if this is the Games' version of an alarm clock.

I sit up, rubbing my head with my right arm and inspect the missile. It's a small syringe attached to a parachute. What's it for? And why the parachute?

Groaning, I sit up and inspect my left arm. My bandage looks suspiciously red and when I tear it off, my wound has a new, jagged look. It also bleeds when I poke it which tells me two things: one, I shouldn't poke any giant cuts on my body and two, there is something very wrong with my arm (possibly relating to point one).

"You got a present from Liss, I see," Kayn says, walking over to me. I had actually forgotten he was on watch.

"Yep. If only I knew what it was." I hold the syringe up. "I think it's some sort of medicine but I'm not ill."

Kayn stares at me. "Have you looked at your arm recently?"

"Yeah, it's … oh!" I pull a face, feeling incredibly stupid. "This is for my arm, isn't it?"

"And people always said you were the smarter of the two of us," Kayn mutters under his breath.

I poke my tongue out at him. "Shut up, smart guy. Right, I guess I have to inject this into my arm so…" I hold my left arm out and poise the needle over it. Then I stop.

"Well?" Kayn demands.

I blush. "I'm not really into sticking sharp objects into my body," I tell him. "Not my idea of fun. Also, I don't know where to jab this."

He rolls his eyes. "Pass it here then."

"You know where to place it?" I ask in surprise.

"Vaguely. But I have fewer problems with jabbing you. Hold out your arm." I obediently hold it out, trying to ignore his less than reassuring words. He studies my arm carefully and then swiftly stabs me with the syringe. After a moment, he removes it and looks at my arm. "Is that better?"

I move my arm away and study it. "No idea."

"How can you have no idea?"

I shrug. "Well, it hurts a little bit more. Is that supposed to happen?"

"How should I know?"

I smile at him. "Well, at least I know you're not a sadist. You're not at all happy."

"I'm tired," he mutters moodily.

"So you _are_ a sadist?"

"Jewel?"

"Yeah?"

"Shut up." He's smiling so I know he's not really annoyed, whatever his tone. We sit back and begin to eat breakfast. The silence is comfortable though, unlike when the six of us are together.

Unfortunately, it also gives me time to remember my dream and I don't want to do that. This time, I dreamed about Briar. It was actually worse than the dream about the two girls I killed. I think it's because I know his name. But why am I thinking about someone I feel nothing for anyway?

An uncomfortable thought creeps into my mind. Maybe because, deep down, I feel sad for him. Sad and angry and all sorts of emotions. But the moment they surface, I think about other things. That's the only way to survive, right? Just think about something else.

A chuckle escapes my lips. Liss would be proud of me.

"Want to share the joke?" murmurs Jak from beside me, apparently awake.

"I'm just happy to be alive," I inform him. It's amazing how quickly I come on guard inside. But another look at Jak's charming smile makes me drop it a bit. He's not that bad a guy, really.

"Aren't we all?" He grins. "Looks like your happiness is infectious." I glance at Kayn who isn't smiling. Jak follows my gaze. "Come on, Kayn. Cheer up."

"Why?"

"It's a fresh new day. The sun is shining, the birds are singing…"

"I don't need a eulogy," Kayn mutters.

Jak pulls a face at me. "You are a bitter man," he informs the taller boy.

"Good."

Jak raises an eyebrow at me, looking so wounded that I can't help but laugh. His wounded look vanishes to be replaced by a smile. "It's always nice to see a beautiful girl laugh."

"You're not here to get off with people," Kayn mutters. "Stop chatting everyone up."

Jak winces. "Ouch. That one hurt." Then a wicked grin. "So, I'm not allowed to chat you up either then?"

"Why are you chatting Kayn up?" Rashnid asks, yawning. Behind him, Hulde and Skira are getting out of their sleeping bags.

"I see a bright new future for us."

"Make one move towards me and you're dead," Kayn snaps. We all laugh.

"You struck out, man."

"Jak does better chatting up trees," I add cheerfully. "I think the one over there is waving to you."

Jak waves back.

Once we've all eaten, we go over the plan again. We'll hunt during the morning, come back, sleep for a bit and then go hunting for part of the night. Since we're working on some sort of rota, it's Hulde's turn to stand watch. She doesn't look very impressed that she's missing out on the action but she can't exactly argue with five of us.

This time, we head towards the swamp. This is where we encounter our first problem (and it's only been five minutes): how do we get across the swamp without being sucked into it?

We head back to the Cornucopia to see if Hulde has any ideas. She looks surprised to see us, obviously wondering where the time has gone, but joins in the discussion carefully.

Fifteen minutes later, we try again with our new plan: take really light steps across and see if we can find some solid ground. We send Skira, as the smallest, across. She walks roughly two steps before she begins to sink. Kayn and Jak rescue her. We plod back to the Cornucopia.

Hulde starts laughing when she sees Skira's muddy state and now, not only do we have to come up with a new plan (preferably a plan that works, although I'm not fussy), we have to dry Skira off. We decide to kill two birds with one stone (pardon the implicit meanings please) and discuss it while Skira dries off. Unsurprisingly, she is not too happy with any plan that involves the swamp. However, she's outvoted by the rest of us so it doesn't matter.

Ten minutes later, we set out for a third time. They say the third time's the charm but clearly, whoever 'they' are, they're complete idiots: only Kayn is tall enough to reach the trees. Rashnid's plan of jumping from tree to tree isn't going to work.

If we're being shown on the television right now, our audience must be splitting their sides laughing.

Kayn comes up with the idea of everyone grabbing something long and just poking the ground until we find a path. I suggest circling the swamp. Skira seconds my vote. Jak and Rashnid side with Kayn.

Hulde doesn't even acknowledge us when we come back to the Cornucopia, nor does she ask why we've all decided to pick up long planks of wood. Maybe she thinks we've finally snapped. I'm actually not convinced we haven't.

Armed with our long poles (except for Jak, who is using his spear), we head back and begin to jab uncertainly at the swamp's surface. To my surprise, Skira begins to find a path and after about half-an-hour, we reach a mass of dry land.

"Wow," Kayn mutters sarcastically. "All that for a patch of land."

"But it's _our_ patch of land. We can call it … Kayn-Jak-Rashnid-Skira-Jewel-land." I tell him in a falsely cheerful voice.

He blinks at me. "Say that again?"

Jak decides to interrupt our conversation. "I have an idea," he says cheerfully. "Why don't we continue _through_ the swamp?"

"Because I like my patch of land. I can grow plants here," I mutter rebelliously.

Rashnid laughs. "Jewel, you don't even know which ones are poisonous, man. What would be the point?"

I stick my tongue out at him because I don't have an answer. He laughs again.

Jak eventually convinces me that I don't really want to spend the rest of the Games growing plants on this patch of land. Kayn convinces me that if I have to give it a name, I should pick a better one. I offer up 'New-farm-for-growing-poisonous-berries-land' but no one agrees. Skira says she'll give me a piece of dried fruit if I'll shut up. I take the fruit. I never say no to free stuff.

The crossing of the swamp takes us another hour-and-a-half. The path is very narrow and twisty and by the time we get to the other side, we're about twenty metres away from the stream we were walking in yesterday.

Skira looks smug and I can't help laughing. It's taken us over two hours to come up with a plan and use the plan to cross a swamp, only to end up where we were yesterday, and Skira is using this opportunity to look smug. No one else seems to find the situation amusing. Kayn points out that we haven't managed to kill anyone so I tell him that at least none of us are dead.

"Always look on the upside, don't you, Jewel?" he mutters.

"It's a lot more fun than looking on the downside," I tell him. "You should try it."

"Someone needs to be a realist here."

"I _am _realistic. None of us died."

Kayn gives up and turns to the other three who are watching us with some bemusement. I smile cheerfully at them. Jak and Rashnid still don't see the happy side but neither of them want to pursue it. Skira's as smug as she was before.

We're still standing by the river when Skira notices a set of tracks going in the direction of the Cornucopia. With nothing better to do, we follow them. Jak sings Skira's praises as we walk.

The tracks take us on a circular route that ends in a broad stream. Skira takes one look at it and says she has no idea which way the tribute went because they walked in the middle of the stream, effectively destroying their tracks. I nod and try to look like I have some idea of what she's talking about. Jak, seeing me, mouths 'you're doing better than me'. This makes me giggle, destroying my pretence.

Kayn, however, scowls and asks Skira what the point of this whole journey was. He's using his 'tough-guy' voice which intimidates everyone except me and his family. Skira instantly shrinks and begins to stutter that she was only doing what we suggested. Kayn does not look impressed.

"Hey, Kayn, ease up," I say. "She did better than any of us."

"Yeah, man," Rashnid surprises me by joining in. "It's not like you could do better."

Kayn scowls, shrugs and turns, walking back in the direction of the Cornucopia. The rest of us trade glances with each other before rushing after him.

We arrive back at the Cornucopia without incident. Hulde smiles when we wave to her– she must have been _really_ bored if she's pleased to see us. Of course, it might be because there hasn't been a cannon shot so she knows she hasn't missed out on anything. Personally, I think she's crazy. I _like_ not finding anyone.

The heat is absolutely intense. The sun's high up in the sky and Skira mentions that this is the hottest part of the day. We decide to sleep for about seven hours. Jak is on guard duty for the first three-and-a-half hours. I get the second shift. The pair of us will be exhausted.

I thought it would take me ages to fall asleep but I manage it quite quickly, in the shade of the Cornucopia. For once, I don't dream about any of the dead tributes but, instead, I dream about my friends. Ayla's shaking her head at me. Calem walks away from me. Gleam simply says: 'remember. You promised'.

Then, for some reason, they start poking me.

"Wakey, wakey, rise and shine," they murmur. I open my eyes to see Jak smiling at me.

"What?" I groan.

He chuckles. "You don't need any more beauty sleep. You're nice enough already. So take over the watch."

I want to make some sort of remark back to him but his comment makes me blush and I can't seem to find any sarcasm left in me. I get up and grab my mace, ready for a thrilling three-and-a-half hour watch.

"Night, night, Jewel," he murmurs in a childish voice.

I look over at him and grin. "Go to sleep, little Jak or I'll have to whack you one," I reply in a motherly tone.

He merely laughs before becoming silent. I settle back against the horn. I really should change my bandage…

Hey! My arm hasn't been hurting! The moment that thought enters my head, I quickly rip off the bandage on my left arm. The cut is looking a lot healthier – there's just a normal, very long scab. I reckon I'm going to end up with a scar there but that isn't really a problem.

"Thanks, Liss," I say. I consider thanking my sponsors (hey, I have sponsors!) but I think that would make me sound stupid.

I'm so pleased that I can keep my left arm (although part of me is annoyed that I can't look at something and say 'that cost me my left arm that did') that I decide to patrol around the Cornucopia. I don't know what I'm expecting, really. Applause would be nice I suppose.

For the second time in two days, I see the boy from District Nine. He's on the swamp side and he looks just as determined as yesterday. I hurriedly try to pick up a bow but he glances at me, sees the sleeping tributes, and runs back – into the swamp. I consider my next move. Do I wake up my companions? Chase after him? Let him go? Sing the National Anthem?

OK, the last one was there for my own amusement. Pity it isn't actually that amusing…

I force my thoughts back to the sister-killer. I don't know where he's gone but he'll probably die in the swamp: he doesn't have a long pole. With that in mind, I decide to leave him. I've had enough fun in the swamp for one day. I'm not dying just to kill him.

The cannon doesn't sound during the rest of my watch which tells me he's either by the swamp's edge, he's gotten through the swamp or snuck back around. Whichever one, he isn't dead. It's probably best to not mention this to the others. I have a feeling that telling them will make me their next victim and that isn't really a fun prospect.

After three-and-a-half hours, none of the other five make a move and I realise I have the unappealing job of waking them up. I decide to start with Skira because she's the one who's least likely to hit me.

She grumbles a bit but makes no attempts to hurt me. Next, I decide on Jak, who surprises us by swinging out at Skira before she squeaks and he works out what's happening. He's very apologetic. Rashnid, in comparison, is a lot calmer – he gets up almost immediately. This leaves us with Hulde and Kayn. I know Kayn hates being woken up and I have the feeling Hulde won't be much better.

I tentatively poke Hulde on the shoulder and skip backwards but she doesn't wake up. I do it again but I prod harder. This time, she gets up, swearing angrily. However, she calms down quite quickly after we explain why we've woken her up. Then she shrugs and kicks Kayn lightly in the side. Kayn is not at all pleased to be woken up: he swings his fist at Hulde and shouts 'Then go away' when she swears loudly.

This is the last time I agree to do this watch. This is actually more dangerous than hunting for the other tributes.

It's Rashnid's turn to go on watch so we have a brief argument about who gets to wear the nightglasses. I say we should do it alphabetically. Kayn reminds me that I hate going alphabetically. Hulde says she should have them. Jak says that's not an argument.

Eventually, we stand in a circle around Rashnid and get him to close his eyes and point randomly. He points at Kayn who accepts the glasses without argument. After the anthem plays, showing the lack of dead tributes, we head towards the dark trees.

We soon discover that, even with the light of the moon, following one person in the dark is really difficult. As in, we may as well have sent Kayn off by himself for all the use the rest of us are. It probably doesn't help that we're wandering through lots of trees.

This is our loudest trip yet – about once every five minutes, someone will curse, fall over or ask Kayn to slow down. I tend to fall in the second category (pardon the pun); the tree roots seem to have it in for me tonight. Maybe it's what Kimre said – the Gamemakers changing the climate. Though I'm not sure why they'd target me with tree roots.

We give up somewhere deep in the jungle. The only thing going for us is that it's not hot … except now it's actually quite cold. I guess you just can't win in these Games. Well, I hope you can, but metaphorically speaking. Anyway, we decide that the trees are too thick to walk in during the night and that tomorrow, we should try it in the clearings.

Of course, we now face the problem of getting _back_ to the Cornucopia. We've stumbled all the way to some indeterminable point in the forest but only Kayn has had a clear view of which way we went (he also didn't stumble but that's beside the point).

We've only been walking for twenty minutes before an argument between Hulde and Kayn breaks out.

"We came from that direction," Hulde hisses.

"No, we came from _that_ direction," Kayn replies, pointing in the opposite direction.

"I recognise the tree." She shoves him.

He doesn't rise to the bait. "And I recognise the rock. We went that way." As she moves towards him, he adds, calmly, "If you shove me again, I'll kill you."

"Let's just go in that direction," I interrupt, pointing between the two directions. "It's in the middle."

They glare at me. "But no one remembers going that way," Hulde tells me menacingly.

"Hey, I don't recognise the tree either. But if this way is going to stop you two killing each other, you can have it out with me at the end."

"Jewel, I think you've just committed suicide," Jak whispers in my ear.

"I'm a born performer," I whisper back. "I want our audience to be entertained."

"Fine," Hulde snaps, interrupting our conversation as Jak laughs. "We go that way."

Kayn shrugs. "Fine."

We follow in the direction which I pointed out. I can't help wishing that I'd actually thought about what I said. Why have I offered my life to Hulde and Kayn? And I've done my stupid mistake again, I realise. I've stopped two people from killing each other. Hulde's mentor must have a poster of me somewhere and is probably kissing it. I'm the best thing that's happened to her, clearly.

Only Hulde is more surprised than me when we reach the Cornucopia. She glares at me. I stare right back, trying to look assertive. Just because I had no idea where we were going doesn't mean I have to act like that; I'll pretend everything was under control.

"Guess the odds are in your favour," Jak tells me.

"I knew where I was going!" I protest in a voice which clearly says the opposite. Everyone laughs. I remember Kimre's words; I'm never going to be an actress.

"There you are," hisses Rashnid as we come closer to the Cornucopia. "I was wondering if you were ever going to come back."

"We got lost," Skira says simply.

Rashnid shakes his head. "Figures. Man, that's not smart." He smirks and looks around before frowning. "Hey, man, what's that noise?"

"I can't hear anything," Kayn says. I'm about to agree when I notice the sound. Buzzing. And the sound of someone running.

"I see someone," Skira gasps. We turn in the direction she's pointing to. A small figure is running towards us, swatting at something.

"What are they running from?" asks Hulde.

Before anyone can tell her (or make a guess) the figure – the boy from District Five actually – runs into the Cornucopia, right into the middle of us. Kayn and Jak grab hold of his arms.

"Run, you idiots," the boy gasps. Before we can ask why, though, the reason hits us. Well, it flies into us if you want to be specific: the boy has been pursued by a horde of flies who seem intent on eating us. Their bites are irritating.

Soon all of us are swatting away. It probably looks like we're doing some sort of strange dance (the fly dance?). After a minute or so, Jak shouts that we should run into the water. We all run towards the sea, except for the boy from District Five, who is being dragged by Kayn and Jak.

The moment I jump into the water, I feel instant relief. The flies don't seem to like sea water and are stubbornly refusing to eat us. After buzzing angrily near us, they fly back again, looking for new victims. I wonder if they're mutts…

Jak shakes his head, still gripping the boy from District 5. "I heard the Gamemakers would use things to get tributes close to each other but…"

"This was a bit early," I call back. "Couldn't they have waited until a decent hour?" I shake my head in mock-irritation. "Honestly, the cheek of some people."

Everyone laughs. The boy from Five glubs a bit because Jak and Kayn are pushing him into the water. Skira points this out. Jak obligingly lifts him back up again.

"Y'know, I have an idea," I say.

"Uh oh."

"No, it's a good one." I grin. "I'm on a roll tonight."

"Get on with it," Kayn grunts.

"Well, the flies are gone. Why don't we go back onto the beach? Jak, Kayn, your friend's drowning again."

"Whoops. Up you come."

With this somewhat discouraging comment, we make our way back to the shore. Once by the Cornucopia, Jak and Kayn dump the boy on the floor. He gets up and looks at us. Somehow, we've formed a circle.

"Don't kill me," he gasps.

Hulde walks forward and kicks him. "Shut up."

Rashnid walks forwards and brushes his arm gently with a knife. "We're just gonna help you sleep, man." Everyone laughs. I force myself to join in. I wonder if I'm the only one who's faking it.

"Please don't kill me," he pleads. "I'll do anything. I'll give you anything." Tears run down his cheeks. "Please."

"He doesn't have much of a backbone," Rashnid comments. "'Specially for someone who led flies to our camp."

"I didn't mean to! I'm sorry."

"Crybaby," Kayn grunts.

The boy tries to wipe his tears away. "I'll join you," he sniffles. "I'll help you."

Jak holds his spear out to the boy. "Ah, but we'd still have to kill you. And until then, you'd be a danger." He sighs regretfully. "You see our problem?"

"I won't try to kill you," he says instantly. "I swear it. Just give me a chance."

Before I can stop myself, I ask him, "How are you planning to win if you don't kill us?"

He swivels around to face me. His eyes are wide with fear. "I … I … I'll … Just give me a chance."

Skira seems to decide that she has to join in. "Sorry."

He starts to cry again. "Please, I'll do anything."

"I've had enough of this," Hulde snarls. She lunges forward and swings her axe. For a moment, I think she's killed him, but then she moves backwards and I see that she's lightly hit his cheek. He screams, blood trickling off his face as his knees buckle.

Rashnid shakes his head. "You missed, man." He draws his knife on the boy's other cheek. He screams again. "Anyone want to go next?"

Kayn shrugs, walks forwards and punches the boy. He falls backwards, sobbing.

Jak smiles. "My turn," he says before pulling the boy up and slashing the tip of his spear at the boy's back. Jak turns to look at me and Skira. "Ladies?"

The boy turns to look at me too, his face a bloody mess. "Please," he whispers. He's struggling to maintain a sitting position. He looks pathetic.

I think of Pearl. I step forward and aim the mace at his arm, crushing it. His scream of agony rends through the air but I feel oddly remote. As though it's someone else doing this. I don't even have to change my facial expression.

But this _is_ sick.

Skira raises her axe to swing at the boy while walking forward and I don't know whether she does it on purpose or not but she stumbles and falls with her arm stretched out, swinging downwards heavily. Her axe buries deep into his chest. I see his eyes roll upwards as he falls backwards. After a few seconds, the cannon fires.

"Why did you do that?" Hulde demands.

"I tripped," says Skira simply. "Sorry."

"Couldn't you have been less clumsy?" Kayn sneers.

"Sorry," Skira repeats.

"That's all very well but-"

"Leave it, Kayn," I say tiredly. "He's dead now. One tribute down, right?"

Jak slings a friendly arm around my shoulder. "Let's not fight with each other. Jewel's right. All that matters is that it's eleven down and twelve to go … including all of you of course."

"Oh, of course, man," Rashnid scoffs.

Jak suggests we go back to the Cornucopia and get some sleep. It's Skira's turn to stand guard. Neither Hulde, Rashnid nor Kayn seem pleased with her, but she bears it well. She's apologetic to a fault and I can't help wondering whether she really is sorry.

As we get ready for sleep, it occurs to me that what we did to that boy was completely unnecessary. We could have simply stabbed him. Jak and Kayn could have drowned him. We didn't have to do all that to a fourteen-year-old kid. But we did. I did.

I didn't even have to work at pretending to have no problems with it. When I think about my interview three days ago - and it feels like weeks now -, all I remember is how much trouble I had pretending to be someone I'm not. Now, I'm an expert. I'm almost as good as Kayn.

_Unless you weren't pretending_, a part of my mind – the part which generally seems to have it in for me – whispers. _You didn't feel a thing. How is that pretending?_

I shake my head slightly. I am pretending. I am. This is just a big show. This is just one big hoax, a sight to tell people I'm going to survive. To show strength.

Right?

I close my eyes, trying to think about something less disturbing. Somehow, I know I'm not going to sleep well tonight.


	9. Watch Out!

**Disclaimer:** I do not own The Hunger Games

**Geth342:** I am so sorry about the late update. I honestly didn't think i would be needed for production work during the day this week - if i'd known, i would have tried to get this up on the weekend. As it is, i'm spending between 10 and 14 hours a day in the school.

Anyway, thanks goes to _AJLL_ for pointing out a non-Americanism in chapter 8, so cheers. It's been changed. This chapter is more of a filler than anything but it's actually wormed its way into my heart. Thanks for reviewing as well :) Next update will be, hopefully, 17th - 19th July. Please, enjoy.

Chapter 9: Watch Out!

I was right. I don't sleep well. All through the night, my dreams are haunted with images of the boy from 5, as well as the girls from the Cornucopia. Waking up is actually a relief. When I'm awake, I can control my thoughts and feelings.

For once, I'm not the first person to wake up: when I get up, I see Hulde sitting quietly with Kayn (who took the last watch). I wonder what they've been talking about. I don't think they're going to tell me. Well, Kayn might but Hulde won't. She _really_ doesn't like me. Probably because I keep arguing with her although, who knows? Maybe she doesn't like my nose. Are tributes allowed to be that shallow?

I sit down next to them and eat some food from a nearby pack. Their conversation appears to be about where we should hunt today. Hulde is doing most of the talking but Kayn occasionally chips in. He also asks me for my opinion; something which Hulde tries to ignore. I try to ignore her too so Kayn is, in theory, talking for the pair of us. The thing is: I'm not sure he notices.

(Of course, that could be because I keep answering her questions. Well, _someone_ has to keep this conversation alive and Kayn is famous for leaving conversations to die.)

Skira and Jak wake up next and sit by us. As we plan out the next day, I absent-mindedly run a hand through my hair. It's gritty and full of dirt. Athena must be furious: all her hard work from scrubbing me half-to-death has been ruined. Actually, I probably look a sight altogether. I'm covered in small cuts, bruises and fly bites and the only reason I'm not particularly dusty is because I hurled myself into the sea last night. This morning. Well, at some point when it was dark.

When I come back to reality, I discover that we've decided to walk through the trees we went through yesterday. I set off, still not concentrating. This time the journey is better because we can see! I almost shout 'I see the light!' but I don't think anyone else would be impressed. They're all irritable because we're covered in fly bites.

Great. Now that I've remembered, I'm beginning to scratch too. I've got to come up with more sensible thoughts. Preferably ones which aren't about the…

"Watch out for that tree!"

"What?" I ask before walking straight into a tree. I crash backwards through a bush, dazed, fall onto something soft, and just lie there. My nose really hurts.

"I did warn you," Kayn says, trying to sound concerned but failing to keep the amusement out of his voice.

"Are you OK?" asks Skira when I show no signs of moving from the bush.

I pull a face and wince. "I'll survive."

"Is the tree OK?" asks Jak.

I sit up and look at the tree "It looks better than me."

"I don't know about that-" Jak begins. Rashnid interrupts.

"Jewel, man, why aren't you scratching?"

I stare at him. "Why would I be?" I wince as something sharp jabs my face.

He points at me. "You're covered in ants, man."

I fall backwards in shock. Falling backwards does nothing helpful but makes me feel slightly more in control. Then I carefully stand up. Black insects fall off my top. And now that he's mentioned it, my face _does_ feel ticklish…

Gingerly, I touch my hand to my face and move it away again. Five ants come with it. Still half-dazed, I mentally name them Rock, Scissors, Paper, Shimmer and Sparkle. Then I come to my senses.

"Ants!" I shout, furiously shaking my head and hands. "Ants, ants, ants."

"You know, I do believe she's worked out what sort of insects they are," Jak murmurs to Rashnid, who laughs.

I do the first thing which comes into my head: I pick up an ant from my shoulders (its name is Jalen) and throw it at Jak. Jalen doesn't quite make it and scuttles away. Jak laughs at me.

"Jewel, the river's about one hundred metres over there," Skira tells me. "Maybe you should go wash in it."

"Good idea!" I try to think of a way to thank her. "Do you want an ant?"

She doesn't seem to know what to say. "Um … no thanks."

I shrug and then scratch. The ants are biting me now. "Your loss." She laughs. "I'm going to that river."

The boys look incredibly uncomfortable. "You should take someone with you," Kayn mumbles.

"OK."

They still look uncomfortable. "Do you want us to come with you?"

I shrug. "Sure, it's not like … ah." I'm about to tell them I have no intention of stripping (I can already imagine Jak's reaction) when I feel a bite on my stomach. "On second thoughts," I wince, patting my hand down the back of my top as another ant bites me, "you might have a point."

They consider the problem. "We'll walk with you to near the river. Skira can go with you to the water and if you're in trouble, shout."

We walk towards the river. As soon as we're about ten metres away, the boys stop and only Skira and I continue.

"Do you want me to, er … look away?" Skira mumbles.

I begin to blush. "Um … if you want to … erm …"

This is ridiculous. We're both taking part in an event where we have to kill other people and we're worrying about my dignity. I mean, I always say I lost my dignity somewhere but it seems to have made a return. At a really annoying time.

Skira turns away. "Tell me when you're in the water."

As quickly as I can, I tear off all my clothes. Then I walk towards the water. It's quite calm by here but muddy. This really isn't my day, insect-wise. I close my eyes and step into the water. It's not too cold.

"I'm in!" I shout. Skira turns back around and begins to beat my clothes against an (ant-free) tree while scanning the opposite bank. I plunge my head under the water, trying to get rid of all the insects.

The water seems to soothe my bites and I smile. I can probably come out – the ants must have gone by now. I surface and start to grapple towards the bank.

"Don't come out," Skira hisses.

"Why not?" I hiss back.

"I'm sorry, am I intruding?" an amused (male) voice asks. Awkwardly, I turn my body around. Korosh is standing on the opposite bank (which is about fifty metres away).

"No, I thought I'd flaunt my body, just to make a really great show," I reply sarcastically.

"Ah." He nods wisely. "Why are you in a river, Jewel Arram from District One?"

"All the rage these days," I mutter in reply.

Korosh smiles. "Your friend has gone."

"Has she?" I can't be bothered to look around. "OK."

"Do you know why?"

"Same reason I'm in this river probably. Why aren't you trying to kill me?"

He shrugs. "The idea of losing my sword in the water is somewhat unappealing. Since I have no other way to kill you, I may as well not try. And you're not trying to kill me."

"Well, I'm not really in a position to kill you, am I?"

His next reply is cut short by a knife being thrown at him. He ducks, just in time. Behind me, Rashnid swears.

Korosh looks over my head. "That's where your friend went. OK, I'll go now." He smiles. "Goodbye, Jewel Arram from District One. Have fun in your river." He shoots me an amused grin before running into the undergrowth.

"I can't believe I missed," grumbles Rashnid as I twist my body back around to face the others.

"He did see you coming," I point out. "Or he probably did."

"But still."

Jak suddenly laughs. "Jewel, _are_ you having fun in your river?"

I glare at him. "Loads. I'd spend all of the Games in here, if possible. Could you move, please, so I can get out?"

He chuckles. "Move in general so you can get changed or just move to let you out?"

"Go away. Now!"

"Don't argue, Jak," says Kayn. "When she glares like that, it's always safer to do what she says."

Laughing, the three boys walk away. Skira obligingly lays my clothes by the bank and turns away. Before I get out, I shout that if Korosh is near and looking, I will make it my personal duty to hunt him down and feed him to some insects. I think I hear an amused chuckle but I'm not sure.

As I get changed, I find myself hoping that this isn't being shown on the television screen. The thought of everyone seeing this is really uncomfortable and if I do win, I think I'd just end up going to my house and staying in my room. Actually, that's quite an appealing idea…

Anyway. I haven't won yet. No sense worrying what is being shown to the people of Panem.

As soon as I'm fully clothed again, I walk over to Skira and we head over to the boys. Jak cheerfully informs me that, if I'm curious, not only did I fall onto an ants' nest, the tree I walked into was covered in ants. Rashnid adds that I'm covered in little bites. Kayn merely shrugs and tells me to listen to him next time when he warns me about trees.

* * *

We don't find anyone as we walk. We know Korosh is one the opposite side of the river but unless we walk all the way around, we can't get to him. Skira can't see any tracks either. This has been a really bad day. Well, for me anyway. The others are still laughing about my ant catastrophe. While I'm glad I amuse them, I'm in a bad mood: my head is throbbing, my nose started bleeding after a little while and I'm trying to stop myself from scratching.

When we arrive back at the Cornucopia, Hulde takes one look at me and says, "How?"

Everyone starts laughing so I take it upon myself to answer with as much dignity as possible. "I got into a fight with a tree. Then I decided to make friends with some ants. It was all lovely."

She starts laughing too. "Anything else?"

Rashnid smirks. "She missed the part where she went swimming naked and District 10 boy saw her. Man, she murdered all her ant friends."

Hulde laughs even louder. "I thought she liked her ants."

I scowl at her. "I did. I thought they'd like to go for a swim."

"Have you noticed how the angrier she gets, the more sarcastic she is?" Jak whispers to Rashnid. Rashnid laughs again.

Kayn smiles. "Jewel, why did you punish the ants and not the tree?"

I scowl at him, making him even more amused. "I didn't think Skira would lend me her axe to chop it down."

Skira decides to make a rare venture into the world of humour. "I would have given it to you," she tells me. "All you had to do was ask."

I decide that, actually, the best way to deal with this is silently – which is a new one for me. I go to the pile and find some soothing cream. I also find a flashlight.

"Well, just for that," I inform them loftily (I've also broken my vow of silence. Why do I always do that?), "you're not getting this flashlight for the evening hunt. Serves you all right."

"Then you don't get the nightglasses," Kayn counters.

"Works for me. I have a flashlights. Flashlights are better than glasses."

"Jewel," Rashnid says cautiously. "Anyone ever tell you, you have a screw loose, man?"

I give up.

"I give up," I announce. "I'm going to sleep. Goodnight."

With that, I lie down and close my eyes. I refuse to open them even when Jak prods me and, eventually, I hear everyone else going to sleep.

I'd hoped that the events of the day would give me something new to dream about but, once again, all I can see is the boy from District 5. He sobs for me to help him and runs towards me when I do nothing. And all the time, I want to shout 'I'm sorry, I can't help you' but I'm frozen in place. I can't even scream.

Jak wakes me up by gently nudging me. I can't help but smile gratefully when I see him. He smiles back.

"Time for watch."

"Right," I say happily. "Have a nice nap."

He looks at me curiously. "You're not in a bad mood anymore."

I shrug. "I'm not in pain any more." Which is true but isn't the real reason I'm in a good mood.

He nods. "Oh, good. I was worried that we'd offended you. Just it _was_ funny."

Thinking about it, I suppose it must have been amusing for them. Comedy in the Games. My perfect role. "Don't worry," I tell him.

He smiles again. "So, we're still friends, then?"

The words are casual but they hit me like that tree I walked into. Friends? I'm not supposed to have friends here, unless I want the Gamemakers to kill me. I should tell him that now. Or I should say something mysterious and meaningful like 'Friendship is as friendship does'.

Except I have no idea what that means. Or what relevance it has to this. Or even where I got it from.

I open my mouth to say – I don't know what exactly – and then look at how hopeful his face is. I remember how close we've become anyway. "Sure," I say. "Still friends." Liss and Kimre probably want to strangle me now but I don't care. It's nice to have a friend.

"Good," Jak says before lying down and closing his eyes. I get ready to wander around the Cornucopia.

Absolutely nothing happens in the watch, apart from me deciding to add more ointment to my bites, and remembering that I need to get some more water when we leave. I get so bored that I seriously consider shouting 'Fire', just for laughs. The only thing which stops me is that, not only would Hulde kill me, but the others would be right behind her.

I wake everyone up in the same order as yesterday with similar reactions. This time, however, I'm prepared and don't feel quite so intimidated. Once we're all awake and happy to be so, we eat a quick dinner. During this time, the anthem plays but I can't bring myself to look at the boy we murdered.

That's a strong word to use, I find myself thinking, but the more I consider it, the truer it is. What I did to the girls in the Cornucopia, what we did to Briar; that was killing. This was murder. I'm not sure why it's different, but it is.

This time, Hulde wins the glasses so we follow her. However, I still have my flashlight and, true to my word, I refuse to let anyone else have it. I even call it 'my baby' just to emphasise the point, though it makes me sound crazy. Maybe Briar's influence rubbed off on me. Anyway, the flashlight is useful because I can see as well. I stand at the back and, this time, we manage to walk without falling over.

As we walk, I find myself thinking that maybe this is what a camping trip is like. Friends, hiking together, talking and joking when they rest, camping under the stars, lots of bugs…

And the occasional murder and/or death, the fact that they aren't really my friends, the climate isn't real, we have no tents and who goes walking with weapons in the middle of the night anyway? OK, this is _nothing_ like camping. I guess there is no nice analogy for these Games after all. Still, I gave it a try.

Even though we can see, we still don't find anyone. In fact, there's no sign of human life anywhere. As we head back, dejected, Jak mentions that maybe we should walk further out, because our current range is limited and maybe people are just out of reach. Then again, we still don't know much about the arena, except that we're in a jungle with a swamp, and there's a mountain somewhere.

You'd think the Gamemakers could have given us a map. Although, if they wouldn't give us writing materials, I suppose a map would be going a bit far. And, thinking about it, it's not as if I can _read_ a map. Or at least: not correctly.

This time, when we get back to the Cornucopia, there is no swarm of flies or crazy boys running at us. Rashnid is not wondering where we are and all that actually happens is that we go to sleep. I don't dream, for the first time since I started the Games.

* * *

Day Five of the Hunger Games looks like it's going to be the same as the other days – lots of hunting, very little else. I know it shouldn't, but the whole idea feels commonplace. Like I always get up and go hunting people to kill. And even though I don't really know them, I can barely imagine life without Jak teasing me or Rashnid making snide remarks while Hulde glares at me. It's weird how much I've adjusted.

We leave Hulde at the Cornucopia. She asks us whether this is a good idea, as we always get into trouble without her. I'm not sure whether she's joking but Rashnid merely calls back 'We'd get in more with you, man' before advising us to run. We do so, laughing.

As we hunt, we toy with the idea of walking for a little bit longer to see if we can find anyone. However, the day is really warm and Skira reminds us that we don't want to be out during the hottest part of the day. Kayn asks her what her suggestion is, scaring her. Skira seems to spend a lot of time cowering away from Kayn.

We've just made it to the clearing where we killed Briar when Rashnid hears something: a rumble. No one's sure what it is so we stop. The rumble sounds again.

"Do you think it's thunder?" asks Kayn.

"Sky's clear," Skira replies.

"Maybe the ants want revenge," Jak suggests.

"Or maybe they're searching for a new victim," I reply. "I nominate you."

"Charming."

"Sorry. But you deserve it."

"That's harsh, Jewel, man."

"Um, guys? I think the ground's shaking."

That gets our attention. We stop our joking to look at Skira. Then I realise that she's right. The ground is starting to tremble. Well, that can't be good. I always prefer the ground when it stays in one place.

"What's going on?" Kayn asks.

Jak opens his mouth to answer but the shaking has increased and he loses his balance. He falls over and yells with pain; the tip of his sword is digging into his leg. Seeing this, I move my mace away from my legs and throw it on the ground. A good move as it happens because I'm the next person to hit the floor.

"Why aren't the trees falling?" Jak shouts over the noise. I try to roll over and have a look but I'm getting dizzy. Still, he's right. I don't think they are falling. But the shaking has increased. I wince as I feel myself get thrown into something hard. I think it's a rock.

The tremors stop after a minute. Shakily, we all stand up. We're all peppered with cuts where little stones have dug into our skin. Jak is wincing as he leans on his leg. But as soon as we're ready to start moving, the ground starts to tremble again and, before we know it, we're all being tossed around again.

I know I said I hated the Games before but I lied. I _really_ hate them now.

The tremors are stronger this time and I wince as I'm slammed, again and again, into different things. I can feel blood trickling on various parts of my body. And still the trees don't fall.

This time, when it stops, I don't even bother to get up. Something tells me that it's just going to happen again. I'm right. By the time it's over, I want to be sick. In fact, the first thing I do, once I'm sure it is over, is stand up and vomit. I'm not the only person either; Skira does the same, as does Rashnid. Jak and Kayn both look green.

We sit in the middle of the clearing, in the long grass, and take stock of ourselves. Jak is the worst injured with a long gash down his leg from his sword. Luckily, everyone else followed my example and threw their weapons away though Rashnid does have a cut on his chest from a forgotten knife. However, it sort of hurts to move and I can feel blood running down my face.

The fact that the trees show no sign of being in an earthquake suggests that this was Gamemaker made and I can't help but wonder why. Did one of them get up this morning and say 'Hey, you know what would be _really_ fun? Giving those kids an earthquake and watching them get shaken everywhere. Oh, it'll be a blast.'? What on earth possessed them to do this?

Right. New plan. If I win, I am grabbing all of the Gamemakers and shoving them in an earthquake. I think this might be illegal but, by this point, I am past caring.

The next fifteen minutes are spent applying bandages to various parts of our bodies. I'm very careful to clean out my cuts because I don't think I have enough sponsors for two sets of medicine. By the end of it, I look fairly normal but Jak looks a bit like one of those mummies I saw on TV once. I can't remember much but I remember they had lots of bandages.

As we stand up, Skira mentions seeing the mountain in the distance shifting and we think there may have been an avalanche of some sort. We're not sure if anyone died because we couldn't hear a thing during the tremors. However, we decide not to venture onto the mountain.

Instead, we decide to go back to the Cornucopia where we can rest up for the rest of the day. Even though we're not seriously injured, none of us are really in a condition to go hunting. Kayn looks slightly annoyed but I don't mind. I like doing anything which doesn't involve killing people. Or earthquakes.

Jak has to limp back so Kayn and I support him. Rashnid would but he's trying to avoid any movement which causes his chest to bleed. Skira's too small to bear his weight. Since we've given up hunting, we're also grumbling about the earthquake. There's no real worry about being ambushed: most tributes are probably alone and there's obviously more than one of us.

"How you doing, man?" Rashnid asks suddenly during a lull in the grumbling.

"I've been better," Jak says. "You?"

"Better than you, man," he smiles and then winces. "Can we talk about something else actually? I need to take my mind off this."

We're silent for a moment. Then Skira says quietly, "Back home, I have this garden. It's only small flowers and grass but it's beautiful. In summer, the colours are amazing – blue as the sky, red as the sunset. And in winter, the snow covers them and everything's white, but you can still see trickles of green. And when the birds hop by…" She breaks off. We're all silent and she blushes. "Sorry, I just-"

"No," Jak says. "Keep going."

She smiles shyly. "The garden's really small and it's just around the back of my house. It's nothing really but I like to water all the plants. It's funny to think they're growing. I don't know how they do it but they do."

"What colour are they in spring, man?"

"Same as summer, but there's one flower which is like soft velvet. That's only in spring. That's my sister's favourite and every spring, I pick one of them and give it to her."

Jak shakes his head slowly. "I wish I'd seen that. But you live on the opposite side of the district, right?"

"Yes," she agrees.

"All I have waiting for me at home is a picture I was working on," he says. "It was meant to be of the district but it's only got my area on it. If I get back, I'll have to add that garden on."

"Man, I haven't made anything. But down by the lakes, where we do the fishing, there's this small pond within the boundary. Man, you should see it in summer. Fish leaping everywhere, pond lilies, sunsets in the water and sunrises … it's calm down there. I go there a lot, just to think."

"Me and my friend Lev were making a carving from this old table," Kayn says softly. His volunteering information is amazing. "Lev's great at it. It was meant to be an old pattern but I got it wrong so he changed it to a picture of what all the districts do. We got to Four." His voice is still quiet but I can hear the emotion draining from it. "I wonder if he carried it on." I had no idea Kayn was even into artistic things like that.

"What about you, Jewel?" asks Skira.

I shake my head. Compared to these five, I feel worthless. "I've got nothing like that," I tell them. "No gardens or lakes or pictures."

"But you must have something," she insists. "Something that's yours."

I try to think. What do I have that's mine? I can't sing or dance or draw. I tell jokes but no one ever laughs. I haven't got a special place to go. "No," I say. "I don't."

"You have those clubs you help out with," Kayn says suddenly.

He's talking about the clubs at school. I always stay behind to help with clubs for younger kids. I like helping them. But that's not the same. "Anyone can do that. Gleam helps out on Fridays anyway."

"I couldn't," Kayn says. "I'd hit the kids over the head."

"Same here, man," Rashnid adds.

"Tell us about your clubs," begs Skira.

"I'd rather hear about your garden," I say truthfully but no one will let it drop. "OK," I say reluctantly and try to think. "I guess I sort of started when my sister complained about this teacher at her after-school club for history or something, so I stayed behind to sort it out. But no teacher turned up so Pearl convinced me to do the club. It was fun." I shrug. "All the children were really happy and I knew how to make it interesting because I'd done it all before. And other teachers heard about it so I volunteered to help with different things." I shrug. "I just liked watching the kids laugh, especially during the Rebellion. That wasn't exactly a bundle of joy. But it's nothing special."

"Why not?" asks Jak.

"It's not beautiful or a secret or anything."

Skira smiles shyly at me. "It sounds just as beautiful as my garden," she tells me quietly. Rashnid nods although I'm not sure if it's in agreement or just him avoiding some bugs.

I blush. "Thanks," I mumble. Then, to get off the topic, I ask Skira to tell us about her garden in the fall.

Skira has a way with words that gets the picture in your head and, against my better judgement, I find myself hoping that she makes it back to see her garden again. Even though I know I would have to die for that and I don't want that to happen. But as I hear the longing in her voice, I find myself wishing I could see this garden too. Liss mentioned that the winner of the Games will have to tour the districts. If I win, I will have to ask to see Skira's garden. And Rashnid's lake.

For the first time during the Games, I feel completely at ease. Because, for this time while we're walking back, we're not tributes, trying to kill before we're killed. We're just five teenagers talking about our lives. I know this won't last but I can't help but enjoy it. For a short while, we're all human beings.

That feeling of peace is shattered when we reach the Cornucopia. It's a scene of ruin. Items are scattered everywhere and the ground is soaking. I think a lot of our food is ruined, although there's still a fair amount there. But that's not really the thing that catches my eye.

"Hulde?" Rashnid shouts, running up to the figure lying on the ground. We follow. "Hulde?" he tries again.

She gives no sign of hearing. Rashnid shakes her body, while Kayn gently pokes her. Her face is pale. She's covered in blood.

"Hulde, can you hear us?" Jak asks. "Wake up." Still no sign of hearing us.

Kayn asks what we're all thinking.

"Do you think she's dead?"

No one says anything. I don't think we know and I don't think anyone wants to answer.


	10. Control Your Temper

**Disclaimer:** I do not own THG

**Review Reply to HIT:** I did mean to message you on the forum but it kept slipping my mind. Sorry. Anyhow, thanks for the review. Hope this chapter doesn't disappoint :)

**Geth342:** You know how i said i was done with the production? I was so, so wrong. Therefore, if this chapter is awful, i'm sorry but i've been half-asleep for the last week (i had 12 hours sleep today and i'm _still_ shattered). Luckily, it really is over now. Anyhow, wow. Thanks for all the reviews. You've made me a very happy person. I hope you enjoy this chapter too. Next update will be 24th July - 27th July. Enjoy :)

Chapter 10: Control Your Temper

It's Kayn who manages to work out that Hulde can't be dead. After all, he reasons, if she had died in the earthquake, her body would be gone. If she had died while we were walking, we'd have heard the cannon go off. So, she's just unconscious. Or dying.

I'm not sure if I'm happy about this idea or not. Hulde hates me and she's one of the scariest people in this arena. If she was dead, this would be easier. At the same time, I don't want her to die.

I wonder if I'm schizophrenic…

We sit by the Cornucopia in silence. The mood from the walk has disappeared completely. Occasionally, Rashnid or Jak will check on Hulde but, otherwise, we are all silent. Is this really supposed to be entertainment? I think having my dad yell at me for being stupid is more entertaining. It's definitely less painful anyway.

After about an hour, Hulde wakes up. She's still pale but her eyes flutter open weakly and her hands move slightly. She forces herself to sit up.

"Wa' 'appen?" she slurs at us.

"Pardon?" asks Jak.

"Wha' … happened?"

"There was an earthquake," Rashnid supplies helpfully. "We found you unconscious, man."

"It looks like half our food is gone too," adds Skira.

"Jak and Rashnid got themselves injured," Kayn says scornfully.

"So, all in all … I guess it wasn't a good day," I finish.

She shakes her head and winces. "Water crashed into the Cornucopia and I got knocked into the horn." She glances at the floor and mumbles something. I think she's saying she doesn't know how she survived. She then moves her arm which makes her yell in pain.

We gather around her (I'm not really sure why because all we're actually doing is making her feel more cramped) and ask her what's wrong. She points to her right arm, which I have to say does look strange. I'm not sure what's wrong, and I can't say I go around staring at Hulde's arm a lot, but I swear it didn't look like that when we left. Jak expertly pokes her arm, making her shout again.

"I don't think it's broken," he informs her.

"Good," she growls. "That means you can stop touching it."

"It looks dislocated," Kayn says.

"I'd listen to him," I add. "He's good with medical stuff."

Everyone looks at me like I've gone crazy (which, hey, might have happened) but Kayn does take a closer look and says that the only thing he can think of is pushing the joint back into place. Unsurprisingly, Hulde doesn't like the sound of this and says as much. Jak puts it to a vote; she loses.

Kayn is the person who agrees to put her shoulder back into place. We give her a piece of cloth to bite on and move her as far away from weaponry as possible. Finally, Kayn grabs her shoulder and, without any warning, tugs at it. She manages to bite through the cloth.

Her arm looks healthier now – probably because it's attached properly – but she looks awful. As in, if there was such a thing as the walking dead, Hulde would be the stereotype. She's a mass of bruises, cuts and dried blood. Frankly, her powers of survival must be amazing. At some point, she gets medicine from her sponsors, which stops her looking so pale. I'm glad I'm not the only idiot who has to have outside help. As a result of her injuries, though, we let her rest while we take stock of what is left.

A lot of our food has been ruined. I say that rocky bread might be edible but Rashnid challenges me to eat it and I have to admit defeat. We still have food in packets and there's enough to keep us going for a while. We have medicine and clothes too. Otherwise, it looks like we're going to have to brush up on our hunting. The fact that we haven't seen an edible animal since the Games started notwithstanding, that will be our only option in a few days.

We spend the rest of the day trying to organise our food while talking about nothing in particular. I go to sleep earlier than everyone else because I have second watch in the night. I don't really care that any audience watching us would be bored out of their skulls. They're probably watching some kid limping on the mountain anyway.

I have a peaceful sleep. I've noticed that my peaceful nights are in correlation to the people we kill. So, if I want a good night's sleep, I can't kill anyone. Seems like a sort of lose-lose situation. Sleep but no chance of winning versus winning and no sleep.

The night watch is actually quite difficult because I'm watching for people with a flashlight. If all the other tributes in the arena charged me now, I'd spot about two of them. Luckily, I don't think a lot of kids will team up – they're not as stupid as us. However, if anyone does come, they don't seem to feel like attacking us because I don't see them.

Of course, it lightens up during my watch and it becomes easier to spot the amazing lack of tributes. By the time the first person wakes up (Skira), I am sat down, bored. I greet her cheerfully.

She yawns. "My arm still hurts from yesterday," she tells me by way of greeting.

"Is it dislocated?" I grin wickedly. "Kayn's experiment looked fun."

She has a look of complete horror on her face. "Stay away from my arm!"

"You're standing in the way of my ambition to become a doctor," I inform her.

"I feel better already."

I have no idea when Skira became so talkative and sarcastic. It must be from Jak. He's a bad influence. However, it's nice to see Skira come out of her shell a bit. I guess that conversation yesterday had a good effect on her. Remembering those flowers probably made her happy.

She asks me how the night watch was and I tell her that it was about as thrilling as watching paint dry. Actually, I hear paint drying's quite exciting in the Capitol – lots of hi-tech machines – so my comment doesn't really make sense. Still, Skira seems to sympathise, whether she realises that the watch was boring, or whether she thinks I was fighting off tributes in complete silence. With Skira, it's hard to know which one.

Jak wakes up next and joins in our conversation about the weather (yes, we have sunk this low), followed by Hulde (who doesn't join in) and, finally, Kayn and Rashnid. Hulde still looks as though something tried to eat her and then spat her out. I don't know how she's still standing. If it was me, I think I would have just not bothered to get up.

We all decide that the chances of a second earthquake are fairly low so it should be safe to go hunting (that being said, if you'd asked me about the chances of an earthquake yesterday, I would have said low so I'm not sure what to think). We also decide that Hulde isn't going to be able to come anywhere with us today and so we should leave her here. She objects but can't argue with five of us.

So, once again, we leave Hulde in the Cornucopia. I'm not sure this is a good idea; if someone attacks her, she'll probably die. But before I can say anything, I remember that the point of the Hunger Games is to _kill_ people. Not save their lives.

Well, at least I remembered it before I saved anyone's life this time (though Hulde's mentor must be disappointed in me). That's a good sign. OK, it's actually a sign that I'm becoming a homicidal maniac but that's probably better than just being me.

We start the trek off in silence. Jak is limping a bit but, otherwise, we're just as good as we were yesterday. However, after a while, we sort of lose our motivation. Even though none of us say as much, the conversation yesterday has really gotten to us. Without meaning to, we start to ask Skira about different plants in the Jungle. We also ask Jak about drawing but it's mostly Skira. It keeps us occupied for a while.

I don't know about most people but I'd definitely prefer to see this on the television rather than lots of death. Then again, I've always been a bit odd. Maybe murder's what everyone loves and I'm just out of the loop.

Our conversation stops when Rashnid spots the boy from Three out of the corner of his eye. The boy promptly disappears but, as Jak says, we have Skira the 'wonder-tracker' on our side. We follow in the direction of the boy, keenly surveying the ground. I can now recognise more signs of people walking through so I'm learning something. These Games are certainly an education. Fighting, geography, gardening and tracking. Makes my years of school seem wasted, really.

The one thing which we keep forgetting about the boy from Three is how _fast_ he is. Every time we think we can catch him, he puts on a burst of speed and we lose him again. The only thing which makes me feel better is that when we do see him, he doesn't look particularly happy. I guess running away from five murderous teenagers isn't much fun.

We lose him in a stream. He's been smart enough to kick pebbles both ways so it's harder to see him. Also, Skira suspects he's climbed a tree and jumped off which is actually quite impressive; the trees here have an amazing lack of branches. He's an agile boy.

Kayn, however, is nowhere near as impressed as I am. Once again, he tells Skira off for messing up. Once again, the rest of us try to defend her.

"Come on, man," Rashnid says. "It's not like she _told_ him to climb a tree."

"Yes, Kayn. Skira's done a good job so far," Jak adds gallantly. "This tribute's just a slippery one."

"But we knew where he went. We didn't need to spend so long tracking him," snarls Kayn.

"Hey, speak for yourself!" I say. "Back by that tree, I had no idea where he'd gone."

"Back by that tree?" asks Jak politely. "Which one? This place is filled with trees."

"The really distinctive one. It was big. I called it Ruby."

"Yes, that narrows it down," Jak laughs. "Ruby! Ruby! Where are you, Ruby?"

I start to laugh too. "Well, there was a tree. I liked it."

I think my stupidity has a calming effect on Kayn because he's smiling now. "You liking trees? You hate nature."

"No, I hate ants. Not trees." I think for a moment. "Actually, I don't like poisonous plants much either."

"Shut up," Skira hisses. "I can hear someone."

"Me?"

"Shut up, Jewel." This is Kayn by the way, not Skira.

I shut up and listen. I can hear footsteps but I'm not sure from where. Hurriedly, we get into a huddle. No one is sure how far away the footsteps are and so we decide to spread out in a line. I get the top of the line. Carefully, I walk forward. If I want to kill this person, I'll have to be quick.

Not that I particularly want to kill anyone, but still.

It soon becomes apparent that the person is near me: I can hear them. In fact, I can hear two sets of footsteps. As I walk, I debate going back to get the others but then I only hear one set again. This is confusing. Who the hell am I following?

I really, _really_ hope the Gamemakers haven't found a way to make ghosts. Are there such things as ghosts? I can never remember. Although this isn't a great time to find out.

I can't help breathing a sigh of relief when I catch a glimpse of sandy hair. I'm following a human. Unless ghosts have hair colour…

Two sets of footsteps!

I begin to run forward, mace ready. If I kill one quickly, I can defend myself against the other person. Or, at least, that's the original plan. But as soon as I get closer, I see a figure fall to the floor.

"I got you," a young voice says triumphantly. As I sneak forward, I see that the figure on the floor is the girl from District 10. She has a knife in her back. The boy from 9 is behind her. So, the sister-killer has murdered again.

The girl from 10 tries to move but she's losing life rapidly. Pity fills me and I decide I can avenge her death too. Which makes no sense really because I've never met her. But it _will_ justify me killing a thirteen-year-old.

"When you killed my sister, I swore I would find you," the boy says in a low voice. "Coward. You couldn't even face us. You just threw that knife in her back and ran off. You thought I wouldn't see you. But I did." He shakes his head. "It's taken me six days, but I found you. And I got you the way you got her." He pauses. "I promised." His voice breaks. "I swore to protect her. You made me break my promise."

The cannon fires. He turns to look at the sky. "Cesva, I'm sorry," he says quietly. "I couldn't save you. But I got her. You hear that cannon? I got her. And I'm going to come home and give you the burial you deserve." Tears start to fall down his cheeks. "I'm coming home."

Now would be a good time to intervene. I could say something smooth like 'No, you're not' or 'Is your home the afterlife?' but I can't. I can't move. All this time, I've been trying to kill this boy because I thought he'd killed his sister. And all this time, he's been trying to avenge her death. I know I should kill him – I can hear Liss screaming at me to do it – but it's like yesterday. There are some moments in these Games which are too much like reality to change. The flowers, the drawings, Rashnid's lake … and the brave thirteen-year-old who only wanted to protect his sister.

He just stands there. I stand there too. I need to make a move. I'm not here for the good of my health – I'm here to win these Games. He might have made a promise but I've made some too. I promised to return Gleam's ring. I promised to come home. I promised to at least try.

And no matter how much I want to, I can't just break all of these promises for the sake of a kid.

With this thought in mind, I decide to charge him. The least I can do is make this painless. But as soon as I take one step, I hear a shout and the boy glances to our right before running off in the other direction. I'm torn between running after him and seeing what has happened to my companions. The problem is solved when the others run into the area.

"Where'd he go?" pants Jak.

I point. "Over there. I was about to attack him but he heard something and bolted." Everyone turns to look at Skira and I know where the shout came from. "Well," I say cheerfully (perhaps too cheerful for someone who just lost a tribute but that can't be helped), "at least it was one of you and not someone coming to kill me."

"Sorry, Jewel," Skira says quietly. "I tripped and sort of … shouted."

I shrug as though it doesn't matter. "Don't worry. I could have been a bit quicker on the uptake but he was in the process of killing this girl and I didn't really want to interrupt." I think for a moment, trying to justify why I hadn't moved afterwards. "Then he went into a nice little speech and you know me, I'm not one to take over a monologue."

"Since when?" Rashnid mutters.

"Since twenty minutes ago. Around about the same time I spotted Ruby."

He sighs and shakes his head. "Man, you pick great times to get manners."

"My mom told me they were always very important. Have to be observed, you know?"

Jak joins in, lightening the mood. "I thought it was my wonderful influence that gave you manners."

"You're right, of course." I shake my head in mock thoughtfulness. "Why didn't I remember that?"

"My presence dazzled you."

"Kiss and get it over with, man," Rashnid shouts. Jak grins and moves towards me, arms outstretched. Before he can complete whatever he's planning, Kayn interrupts.

"Have you forgotten we lost that tribute?" he growls menacingly.

We exchange looks. "Oh, well, nothing we can do about it now," Jak says in a mellow voice. "Unless Skira wants to lead the way again?"

She shrugs. "I don't mind."

"Then 'tis settled," I say in a posh voice. "We shall head forth into the great outdoors and catch the young lad before making him pay for his crimes. Lead the way, Lady Skira." I pause and then add, in my normal voice, "That was an impression of you, Jak. How'd I do?"

"Why, I could not have said it better myself, old lad," he replies in an equally posh voice.

"Shut up!" Kayn yells furiously, breaking into our conversation. We look at him. He's surprisingly angry. But he's been getting angry all day. Maybe it's the heat. "Stop fooling around!"

"Sorry," Jak says, wisely placating him. "Go on, Skira, lead the way."

"You're not letting _her_ lead, are you?" sneers Kayn in a very un-Kayn-like way. "She keeps messing up. She's useless."

"Lay off her, man."

Kayn whirls to face Rashnid. "No!" he shouts. "I want to get out of these Games alive, and that isn't going to happen if she keeps losing the tributes. Since you all want to stay here rather than hurt her feelings, I'll say what we're all thinking. She's useless. She's weak and she can't track." He lets out an angry breath. I'm not sure what to say to him. Why is he so mad?

Skira looks terrified and guilty at the same time. "I'm sorry, Kayn," she stammers. "I'll improve."

"Until the next accident," he sneers.

"I'm sorry," she repeats. "I'll try harder."

He shakes his head. "No. I don't trust you any more."

"I won't mess up again." Tears are forming in her eyes. "I really won't. Just give me another chance."

"And now you're crying. And all this time, that boy is getting further away."

"I'm-"

"Shut it!" he shouts and now I know he's lost his temper. But even I don't expect what happens next.

Kayn lunges forward with his sword, running Skira through with the blade. Her mouth finishes forming the word 'sorry' before Kayn removes his sword and she falls backwards.

The cannon fires for the second time today, signalling the death of the girl with the beautiful garden. The death of the girl who created pictures from words. The girl who, every year, gives her sister a flower like velvet. Her sister will never get another flower.

For a few seconds, the only sound is Kayn's panting. I'm too shocked to say anything. Glancing at Jak and Rashnid, their expressions match my feelings. Skira's death was so quick and so pointless.

I'm the first to find my voice. "What the _hell_ did you do that for?" I say quietly but angrily.

His expression is also a bit surprised. "I lost my temper," he replies calmly. He still looks shocked.

"Lost your temper?" I repeat incredulously. "Lost your temper? That's a bit like saying District 13 isn't looking quite like it used to."

His face is carefully calm. "I didn't mean to. I was just a bit annoyed."

"No, Kayn. 'Just a bit annoyed' means you're a bit moody and maybe not speaking to someone. Losing your temper is a bit of shouting. You _killed_ her!"

He looks slightly guilty but the one thing about Kayn is that he never gives up. "She wasn't any good to us anymore."

I stare at him. "She's the only one out of the six of us who can track! Now you've just made everything harder." I don't know why I'm so mad. It's not like we were extremely close friends; I know she would have had to die eventually. But I liked her. She was a kind person who deserved better than this. She saved my life twice.

And I never paid her back. The one time where I could have repaid the debt, I failed.

Now I know how the boy from 9 feels.

"She kept messing up. Besides, she would have had to die anyway," he remarks stubbornly.

Anger fills me at his statement. "Hey, I messed up too," I remind him.

"Not as much as her."

I don't know what's happened to the Kayn I knew and loved but this isn't him. It can't be.

"But I did. A lot. And, hey, I have to die too in order for you to win. So why don't you kill me too?" I glare at him. "Come on," I challenge him. "Kill me. I'm just as bad as Skira, right?"

He looks uncertain. "I'm not going to kill you."

"Why not? Scared?"

"No. But there's no point."

That does it. Now I am furious. No, not furious. Furious isn't a strong enough word. I'm more than furious. I'm the sort of person who would condemn District 13 to be destroyed in such a way. I'm pure anger. Kayn can't pass judgement on people he feels are useless. Not even in these Games.

"Fine!" I shout. "Then I'll kill you instead. I have no use for people who kill useful members of the team."

I lunge forward at him, swinging my mace. Somewhere, in the back of my mind, a little voice is reminding me that I'm now attempting to murder the boy I once called my best friend. But the rest of me isn't in the mood to listen to that little voice. I smile triumphantly as the spikes on my mace rip into his side.

"Jewel, stop it!" he shouts. I think Jak and Rashnid might be shouting something too but I'm beyond reason. All I can think of is how pointless Skira's death was. How Kayn killed her just because he was mad. How if I couldn't repay my debt while she was living, I can at least do it now that she's dead.

He blocks my second swing with his sword. Blood is seeping through his shirt but he doesn't seem to notice. I aim for his head. He blocks me again. His expression is worried.

"Come on," I shout at him. "Or can't you kill someone who fights you?"

"I don't want to kill you." He's sounding like himself again but I'm ignoring this.

"Fine. Then you can die." I'm really not sure where all these words are coming from. I know it's me speaking but at the same time, it's not. I've never been vaguely threatening at all, apart from when fighting for my life. But now, all I can think about is killing Kayn.

Is that what these Games are supposed to do to you?

I falter at this thought. Kayn's arm swings forward, blocking a non-existent hit, and his sword pierces my right shoulder. I grit my teeth in pain but lunge forward. Finally. He's fighting back.

(The little voice is screaming at me that he isn't actually fighting back but, once again, it's being ignored)

He blocks and knocks the mace out of my grip. I charge forward, using my head to butt him in the stomach. He falls backwards, losing his grip on his sword. I pick it up. It's heavier than I expected.

"Looks like I beat you for a change," I tell him.

He suddenly grins challengingly. "No, you didn't," he says before rolling away. As I turn to swing at him, he jumps up and hits me in my injured arm. It takes all of my concentration to hold onto the blade.

I try to swing at him but it's too weak. Kayn starts to laugh but suddenly stops. There's something behind my shoulder which he's looking at. I don't look. Instead, I try to lunge at him again.

He moves out of the way and thumps my shoulder. The sword falls. Quickly, he picks it up and then, to my surprise, turns and runs. One hand clutches his side. Blearily, I turn around to see what has scared him, but it's only Jak and Rashnid.

"What-"

Darkness.

* * *

I'm very surprised to find that I'm not dead. I feel like I probably should be but I'm not. In fact, 'Hey, I'm alive' is the first thing I say.

Jak smiles pleasantly at me. Rashnid is scowling but I'm not sure who at.

"You are indeed," he informs me before turning to Rashnid. "Told you she wouldn't die."

"Sure," Rashnid mutters irritably. I feel my right arm – I have a bandage now! – before looking at the District 4 boy. I thought we had something going for us but apparently not. Although, I can see why my death would be an advantage.

"Where did the bandage come from?"

Jak shrugs. "We felt leaving you to bleed to death wouldn't be fair."

"Thanks," I tell him.

"You also have a gift, man," Rashnid adds, gesturing to a small parachute.

"Oh, great." I pick up the package. It's some sort of medicine for blood loss. I'm surprised I still have sponsors after today, but I don't want to point this out. Instead, I just take the pills. Almost immediately, I feel better.

"We should get back to Hulde, man. And away from the bodies."

"Alright," I agree. Then I remember. "Why did Kayn run away?"

The boys exchange looks. Jak decides to answer. "We made it clear that we considered him a dangerous factor in our group, if he was going to kill members of our team for little reason. He decided to run." He pauses. "We would have helped you but we thought you were going to kill him."

"Yeah," I say. "So did I."

"Can we go now?" asks Rashnid moodily. Jak gives me his hand and I grasp it. Once I'm up, the three of us start to walk back to the Cornucopia. We don't look back, even when I hear the hovercraft picking up the girl from District Ten – the real murderer of the frail sister – and poor Skira. We give no sign that we've lost anyone important to us. But I know there will be no more conversations of things at home. Our storyteller is gone.

"Man, I _don't_ want to know what Hulde will say about Skira and Kayn."

"We'll try to say it tactfully. It was Kayn's fault anyway. He was the one who killed her after losing his temper. Right, Jewel?"

I don't answer. Jak's words have triggered something in me. It _was_ Kayn's fault. He lost his temper. He killed her.

Kayn's never been an easy-going person but I've seen him lose his temper countless times before and it's never been violent. Something's changed. Something about him. The old Kayn would never have gotten so irritated over something he couldn't control. And he would never have killed someone over it. Before the Games he would never have been so violent.

My next thought makes me sick to the core: I lost my temper too. And I know that, before the Games, Kayn would not have tried to kill someone because he lost his temper. But before the Games, I wouldn't have either. Kayn's not the only one who's changed. I have too.

And I'm not sure I like who I'm becoming.


	11. Learn to Track

**Disclaimer:** I do not own The Hunger Games

**Geth342**: Well, this is the ultimate in half-asleep writing i'm afraid: the majority of it was written when i came home from Barnum performances. Any random trains of writing are due to that. Anyhow, apart from that, i hope you like it. Thanks a lot for all the reviews and favourites as well. They rock my day. Next update will be between 31st July - 3rd August. I hope you enjoy.

_06/04/2012 - Britishism corrected._

Chapter 11: Learn to Track

We are silent on the walk back. I don't know what the boys are thinking but my thoughts are alternating between Skira dying and fighting Kayn. Unbidden, the memory of my promise to his brother comes into my head. I promised to fight Kayn fairly. Did I keep that promise? I don't know.

When we get back into the Cornucopia, Hulde stares at us. At first, the three of us act like nothing has happened – as though it's perfectly normal to lose two people along the way. However, Hulde doesn't seem to like this approach and asks us whether the two cannon shots were for Skira and Kayn. This causes us to look at each other guiltily.

"Well, no," I say after a few seconds of silence. "One was for Skira but the other was for the girl from District Ten."

She nods coldly. "OK. So where's Kayn?" Rashnid and Jak look at me. "What did you do, District One?"

"Me?" I splutter. "What makes you think it was…" I give up. "I had an argument with him."

Rashnid bursts out laughing. "That's a bit of an understatement, man." He turns to Hulde. "She started fighting him. He ran away."

"Why?"

Jak decides to take over. "The boy from 9 killed the other girl and before we could attack him, Skira tripped and alerted him. Kayn got annoyed at her and killed her. Jewel got into an argument with him about it, lost her temper and started to fight him. We also made it clear that we weren't impressed with his actions." He smiles easily. "It could have happened to anyone."

Hulde rolls her eyes but merely says, "That's the last time you leave me here."

We all breathe a sigh of relief. Hulde's temper is unpredictable. Though I can't say it's worse than mine now. That's not a comfortable thought. Still, it's good that she's decided not to explode. I guess it makes her life easier to have less of us here.

We don't leave the Cornucopia for the rest of the day. We probably should go hunting but I think the others want to give me some space – I feel emotionally shattered. All I can think about is everyone at home watching me trying to kill Kayn on TV. And then Skira's family knowing that their daughter has gone. I suppose it must be the same for all the other people who have died but, to me, it's different. Because I knew her.

Liss was right. This is a lot harder to do when I know people. I keep trying to follow her advice and think that Skira is one less tribute. But it's hard. Maybe too hard.

When I come back to reality, it's nearly dark. I'm impressed that I've managed to spend so long sitting silently but I suppose I just had a lot on my mind. The other three don't say a word when I rejoin them though Jak grips my shoulder and Rashnid smirks at me. Even Hulde nods. We eat and talk as though nothing has happened.

As the anthem plays, I look at the sky. Skira's picture flashes. I wonder what Kayn is thinking as he looks at her. Does he feel differently? Then the girl from District Ten's picture appears and I find myself feeling inexplicably guilty; I haven't spared a thought for her since she died. In fact, I'd forgotten she was dead.

"Who's left?" asks Hulde.

We think for a moment.

"That boy from Three is," Jak says.

"And that sister-killer from District Nine, man. And the guy from 10."

"One of the kids from Eleven is," I add thoughtfully. "The girl died on the first day. Must be the boy."

"Is the sobbing weakling from District Six dead?" asks Hulde. Jak considers for a moment and then shakes his head.

"No, she isn't. There are us four and … two more people." He frowns. "Who are they?"

"Man, did we ever get the tributes from District Twelve? I don't remember."

"I killed the boy," Hulde offers. No one remembers killing the girl so we assume she's alive.

"And the last person is Kayn," I add dully. They look at me. "Well, I didn't kill him, did I? So unless he's dying right this moment, he's alive." I look at the sky as though expecting his picture to appear. I can't say I'm surprised when it doesn't.

Jak does a quick calculation. "That's eleven left. So we need to hunt down seven people."

"But you said there's eleven left."

Jak starts to laugh. "Rashnid, four of them are us. It wouldn't take much energy to hunt us down, would it?"

Rashnid scowls. "It's late, man."

"What's that got to do with anything?"

"Means I need sleep."

I force myself to grin. "Should I sing you a lullaby, Rashnid?" I ask with fake humour. I don't know why I'm trying to joke. I only know that laughter might get rid of this oppressive feeling in my chest.

He eyes me carefully. "You any good at singing?"

I start to belt out the Anthem. Even by my standards, I'm terrible. Rashnid covers his ears. "No," I laugh after a minute. "Not really."

He taps his ear cautiously. "Flip, man, you could have given me warning."

I pull a mock-tragic face. "You mean … you didn't like it?" I pretend to sob. "No," I cry. "My life is over!"

"District One, if you start singing again, I'll arrange for that to happen."

I hurriedly look at Hulde who is holding her axe meaningfully. I gulp exaggeratedly then salute. "Yes, ma'am. Duly noted, ma'am."

She rolls her eyes. "Go to sleep, District One."

"Sure thing, District Four." I lie down on the floor, close my eyes and make snoring noises. Trying to drown out the thoughts in my head.

As he lies down, I hear Jak murmur, "Life here would have been so much grimmer if you weren't around, Jewel."

* * *

I wake up screaming into the dirt. I can tell you now: this is _not_ a comfortable way to wake up, unless you happen to like the taste of dirt (which I don't) or you wake up every day in this position (which I also don't do). My dreams were haunted by Skira and Kayn and even the girl from District Ten. I don't know when I rolled over but I'm glad I did. I Even before I went to sleep, I knew I would have bad dreams.

I sit up and spit out dirt. Out of the corner of my eye, I see Jak watching me with an amused expression, but I ignore him as I look for some water. Luckily, there's still some water left in my canteen so I swill that down. My mouth feels less dry.

I sit next to Jak who offers me some mush. He informs me that it is a mix of berries, bread and meat. I stare at it and put it in my mouth. Whatever it used to be, it doesn't taste anything like it now. The remaining tribute of District Two starts to laugh at my expression.

"Not up to your standards?"

I chuckle. "If you're meant to be my cook, Jak, you're fired. This isn't whatever you said it was. You lied to me!"

"Did not."

"Did too." I poke my tongue out at him childishly.

"Did not times infinity so I win." He pokes his tongue back at me. As we start to laugh, I realise that we have both reverted back to the age of five. And we're supposed to be two of the toughest killers in these Games, as far as I can tell. What does that say about us?

Once Rashnid and Hulde are awake and have eaten some of Jak's mush, I am sweating. It's only morning but already, it's boiling hot. I'm grateful when we work out that it's my turn to keep watch – I don't have to walk around.

Hulde is in a better shape than yesterday and tells us that we are not going to stop her from walking. We don't argue. After all, she hasn't left the Cornucopia for two days and she looks a lot healthier and deadlier. If she wants to walk around and possibly die, who are we to stop her?

I settle back and get ready to stand guard as the other three leave. They tell me to collect some berries. Then Rashnid remembers that I can't tell the difference between most berries so they remind me to guard the Cornucopia carefully. I resist telling them that I didn't have any other plans.

No one comes anywhere near our pile. In fact, I spend some time trying to _make_ a pile because what we currently have is a load of ruined items and some useful things. At first, I feel worried that Kayn is going to arrive, especially as he knows our schedule, but he doesn't show up. He's probably run far away. Also, he's seen our 'pile'; he knows there's nothing there. I keep an eye out for the boy from District Nine as well but something tells me he's not going to come – after all, he has no one to track now.

I probably should mention to the others that we've misjudged that boy but I don't think I will. What difference will it make? Besides, if one of them kills him, they'll think they did something good. If I do it, I'll feel guilty (if I have enough guilt going around by this point. How much does one body have anyway?) and I won't even be able to explain why.

Liss' face comes into my mind. I'm doing it again; I'm placing tributes as humans in my mind. Just what Liss told me not to do. For the rest of the watch, I force myself to think of District One. Of my family and friends. Of how much I need to go home.

As all of this has been going on, the day has been getting hotter and hotter. My circuits become shorter until I'm spending more and more time in the shade. I'm drinking water as though I'm trying to drown myself. Which is probably difficult with just a canteen of water but I'm sure I could manage it if I put my mind to it.

So now I'm suicidal. If I'm not saving people's lives, I'm trying to kill myself. Great.

By the time Rashnid, Jak and Hulde come back, I am sitting in the shade. Jak and Rashnid have both taken their tops off. Hulde is trying to look impassive but is just as hot and bothered as me. They have some plants with them as well as two birds which they don't know the names of ("And no, Jewel," Jak says, "we don't need you to come up with a name.") which is, apparently, dinner. Well, it's got to be better than Jak's mush.

Of course, we now have to sleep and the already unpleasant day takes a turn for the worse. I don't want to sleep. If I sleep, I'll dream. But I can't sit up and say that.

"Hey, Rashnid," I say casually, "if you want, I'll take first watch."

He looks at me. "You already did watch, man."

"Yeah, I know but I like watching. I'm a really … watchful person."

"What?"

"Um … I just feel like taking a second watch. Because … I didn't get a good look the first time?"

He stares at me as though I've grown a second head. As excuses go, this one is pretty bad. I'm not even sure what I was supposed to have been looking at.

"Jewel, man, I'll take the watch."

"Fine but can I have it back?"

"What?"

I give up all hope. "G'night, Rashnid."

"Shut up, the pair of you," growls Hulde. I take her advice and keep quiet. And before I know it, I drift off to sleep.

* * *

Hulde wakes me up. Needless to say, she's not as nice as I am: she shakes me roughly and tells me if I don't get up, she'll make it so I sleep forever. Vaguely, I wonder how many ways she can phrase a death threat. That can be my new challenge. At the very least, it will keep me amused during the Games. Anyway, I get up. I'm not sorry either. I think I'd do anything to get away from the image of Skira.

It takes us a few tries to get a fire going. I suggest just holding the birds up and using the heat to cook them but my idea is shot down. As we struggle with the flames, I realise that Skira probably knew how to do this. Another reason why her death was so stupid.

We burn the first bird to a crisp but the second one comes out just right. However, there's not enough meat on the bird for all four of us so we have to eat the burnt one too. I draw the short straw and find that there really is something which tastes worse than Jak's mush: burnt bird. To make up for it, I start describing how lovely it tastes in an over-exaggeratedly posh voice. I want to do it in the tones of the Capitol but even I know that that's a bad idea.

I stop when Rashnid throws a bone at my head. Some people have no sense of humour.

Jak takes the watch so I am left to venture out with Hulde and Rashnid. For the first time since I started the Games, I am being left alone with two people who would love to see me dead. I mean, Rashnid gets on with me but, as we walk, it's clear that he would side with Hulde at any time. Though none of us are exactly talking.

I should probably say, right now, that neither of them attempts to kill me. Whether that means something remains to be seen.

The most interesting part of our hunt is when I recognise an edible berry bush. I think we've hit an all-time low. The one thing I do notice is how much fitter I am – I can walk at a brisk pace for hours without feeling tired. I couldn't do that before. The Hunger Games: the ultimate fitness regime.

In fact, the one good thing about today is that when we do get back, I have first watch and so, my time for dreaming is limited. Even when I do fall asleep, I only dream about being forced to eat burnt bird. Actually, in the dream, I enjoy the meal. This fact reminds me that dreams are nothing like reality – they don't even make sense. Why should I worry about them?

(Isn't it strange how I keep trying to justify every action I make to myself?)

When I wake up, something strange occurs to me – this is day eight. I've been here for over a week. It feels like forever but it's only been seven days really. It's not like time has been going slower (although, if the Gamemakers can make earthquakes, who's to say they can't change the way time works?) (Oh, yeah. Science) but it already feels like I'm spending the rest of my life in this jungle. I shiver at the thought. I could easily spend the rest of my life in this jungle. After all, that's sort of the point.

Hulde is already up and talking to Rashnid, who had the last watch. With less people, we seem to be doubling up watches during the day. Still, I can't help but feel slightly lonely because I know there's no way I can get into Rashnid and Hulde's conversation. I feel like I'm with Athena again. When Jak wakes up, I'm stupidly happy – at least I have someone to talk to.

Once again, we go hunting. Hulde has the watch so it's just me, Jak and Rashnid. I can't help thinking that the three of us are a bad combination; every time we're together, something bad seems to happen. As we walk, I'm half-expecting the ground to explode or for all the trees to uproot themselves and walk two paces to the left. Jak seems to sense my uneasiness because he suddenly shouts 'Boo!' making me jump.

I'd also forgotten that these two boys live to annoy the hell out of me.

By the time we return, I'm actually bored. Absolutely nothing has happened for a while. I know this is meant to entertain audiences and they might be bored but I hope they sympathise with us. Not only are we bored, but we've got to be careful in case someone _does_ surprise us. And even though I hate fighting, I think I'd give anything for someone to leap out at me.

"Well, I give up," Jak yawns as we reach the Cornucopia. "I think they're all dead."

"Very likely, considering that there's been no cannon shots or pictures in the sky," I agree sarcastically.

"Glad you agree."

Hulde walks over to us, glowering. Her face matches my dad's when I've done something particularly stupid. "No tributes?"

"No, man."

"We need to do something."

"Like what, man?"

"Like hunt the tributes down."

"Wow," I say in a shocked voice. "Now why didn't I think of that? Hunting tributes. Wow."

She glares at me. "I meant further out, District One. I saw the boy from Three today. Why don't we track him?"

"We don't know how to track, Hulde," interrupts Jak smoothly.

"So we learn."

"And our stuff?"

She looks around contemptuously. "It's all been destroyed anyway. We can just take enough and go. What is there to guard anyway?"

Jak frowns and then, suddenly, laughs. "Well, that's me convinced. Let's go have an adventure!"

Rashnid and I glance at each other but there's no real reason not to go. It looks like we're not going to find anyone and they're not going to find us. And knowing the Gamemakers, they'll probably get just as bored as us and do something dramatic. Like a tornado. Or a fire. Or a fire tornado – why not mix the two?

I pack food, my flashlight, bandages, water and purification tablets as well as attaching a dagger to my belt. Not that I can use a dagger but it makes me feel better. The fact that I need a weapon to feel better is probably a worrying sign but I don't care much.

Once we're ready, we head off in the direction which Hulde points out. Here's where we learn that tracking is just as hard as we suspected – there are no footprints and we can't tell when the plants were crushed. It's when Rashnid informs us in a lofty tone that the boy obviously went in the stream because the rocks have been kicked that we start to giggle hysterically. Namely because I had gone ahead and walked into the stream myself two minutes earlier.

By this point, it's quite dark. We're in the middle of some trees and the temperature has dropped so we're shivering. With no way of tracking the boy now (well, we do have those glasses but it's taken all of us to get to this point. Imagine only letting one person track and the rest of us follow. We'd probably end up killing each other) we decide to set up camp.

I get the joys of second watch. As we huddle around the fire, I realise that I've done something incredibly stupid (even for me): I've forgotten my sleeping bag. I don't know why I've only just realised but, now that I have, I feel like hitting my head against the nearest tree. Sleeping bags are huge. How did I forget mine?

Luckily, Jak notices and tells me we can swap his in-between our watches (as he's first). Well, what he actually says is 'Do you want to share my sleeping bag? I won't mind (insert suggestive wink here)' but a threat from Hulde for the pair of us to shut up helps him to translate. I accept gratefully. I don't have enough pride to refuse.

For the first time since I got here, I actually get woken up from a nice dream. Typical. And, what's more, I don't see anyone. In this light – the moon's light is blocked by the trees – I could miss loads of people but if they're near, they don't visit. I'm not altogether disappointed; I'm enough of a coward that I only want action if there are more people than me facing it.

The temperature doesn't warm up until the others wake up. I'm intrigued to see that I've changed colour: I'm now an interesting shade of purple-blue. It's not a bad look but, knowing how life goes, it probably means I'm about to lose a limb or something. I notice that I've become a lot more pessimistic since these Games started. Maybe it's Skira's influence…

The moment that I think of Skira, I focus my mind on eating just enough food to keep me going for a while. I don't need to think about her or anyone else. It's dangerous. And it's not as though I was particularly attached to her. She _was_ just another tribute.

Even if she was a friend.

"Jewel? We're leaving."

I jump and realise that the other three are all ready to start tracking. Guiltily, I gulp the rest of my breakfast down, grab my bag and mace and run after them. Except they hadn't actually left so they have to run after me. Well, the thought was there anyway.

We get lucky. After about twenty minutes, we see some footprints in the dust. We have no idea whose footprints they are but it's not as though we have anything better to do – the Hunger Games has a surprising lack of entertainment for the contestants – so we follow them.

When Rashnid falls into a stream, we realise that the trail has more-or-less disappeared. We debate our next move – it's getting hot again (though Rashnid says he doesn't notice) and we don't know which way to go. There's some bent grass in one direction and a lot of fallen leaves in the other. Skira could probably have worked out what all of this means but the best I can come up with is: 'maybe it got windy'. Not exactly the words of a brilliant tracker.

"How about this? We spin a knife," I suggest.

"Or we could go this way," Rashnid hisses, pointing to my left.

"Why that way?" asks Jak.

"I say, trust in my knife," I add.

"But what if your knife doesn't point to the boy from Three who's _right over there_?"

Well, that gets our attention, to say the least. We turn to look in the direction Rashnid is pointing to. I just manage to see a figure walking through some undergrowth. Without a word, we start to run after him.

I'm glad I'm not the only idiot in our group: the four of us running together through bushes makes a noise … which the boy hears. He turns, glances at us and then runs for it. Somehow, I'm not surprised. Apart from the time he tried to strangle me, I've never seen this boy stay for a fight longer than five minutes. Still, if we'd snuck up on him, maybe we would have caught him.

As though to make up for this, Rashnid throws a knife after the boy. He ducks. Hulde throws a rock which catches him on his arm, but he doesn't stop running.

"He's … fast," pants Jak.

"Or we're … just .. slow," I pant back.

Jak considers this. "No … he's … fast."

Hulde hurls another rock which hits him in the back, causing him to lose his balance. We use the few extra seconds to catch up to him. The boy is back on his feet and facing us. He glares.

"Get it over with then." He sounds hostile.

"You pick … _now_ to develop … some guts, man?" Rashnid mutters.

"I'm not an idiot."

Jak shrugs. "Well, I guess I'll do the honours then." He raises his spear and lunges forwards with it. The moment he moves, the boy jumps up and grabs a branch. Just our luck to catch him under the one tree in this arena which has branches.

"Told you I wasn't an idiot," the boy laughs before launching himself towards the next tree and grabbing onto the trunk. Sighing, we start to chase him.

The ten second head-start gives him time to jump onto the ground and take off. None of us are really relishing another chase but this seems like the best idea. This time, if we catch him, I don't think we're going to engage him in conversation.

We hear a shriek from ahead of us. Warily, we slow down. If something's attacking the boy, we don't want to join in. Well, I don't anyway. There's another terrified shout.

"Hey, I think I recognise this place," Jak murmurs.

Hulde looks around. "It looks familiar."

I glance around quickly. They're right. I know we've been here before. But where are we exactly?

"OK," Jak says seriously. "Be careful. I think I know where we are."

We nod. I'm still clutching my weapon as we walk forwards. I don't know what to expect. Is he being eaten alive? Fighting all the tributes we haven't found? I'm not sure. I try to breathe normally. There are no more shouts. But there's been no cannon…

As soon as we see the boy, I know I have nothing to worry about. There's a very good reason why the boy has stopped shouting – he's up to his nose in the swamp. It looks like he didn't realise the swamp was around here and ran straight into it. Horrified, we watch as he finishes sinking. His eyes are wide with fear and we can hear muffled shouts. The cannon fires about half-a-minute after he goes under.

"One less tribute," Hulde remarks in a satisfied voice. I stare at her. I'm still shuddering over that boy's death (I can't imagine anything worse than knowing you're about to die in a slow manner and not being able to do anything about it) and she's already happy. Well, two can play at that game.

"Ten down, only six to hunt," I reply in a casual tone.

"Man, she's even done the math."

"I didn't. I stole it off Jak from two days ago."

Jak smiles pleasantly. "Stealing is a crime you know."

I almost say 'So is murder' but I catch myself just in time. We haven't done any killing today so my statement wouldn't make much sense. Besides, should I really say that in front of the Capitol? I don't think they'd take kindly to it.

A feeling of surprise hits me – I actually thought about what I'm saying, thought of the consequences and stopped myself. I should be proud of myself. I'm learning. But all I feel is disgust. Because I might be learning but not once have I actually spared a thought to the boy who has just died in the swamp. And even though it's hot, that thought chills me right to the bone.


	12. Try Not to Daydream

**Disclaimer: **I do not own The Hunger Games.

**Erratum notice: **Throughout this story i have made several mentions of the characters using torches. I have been informed that in America, unlike in Britain, the word 'torch' does not have two meanings and the meaning is not the same as the main British one. Therefore, i have tried to alter every previous useage to 'flashlight' which i am told is the correct word. I apologise to anyone who has been under the impression that the characters are using burning torches and will try to use flashlight in future chapters.

**Geth342:** Credit goes to _Andalee_ for not only pointing out the above mistake but also finding another non-americanism. Both have been changed. Anyway, this is a short chapter and, i'm ashamed to say, mainly a filler. Nevertheless, i hope you enjoy. The next update will hopefully be from 7th August - 10th August.

Chapter 12: Try Not to Daydream

"Man, just let me rest a while. My feet are killing me."

"Literally?"

"No."

"Pity." Rashnid glares at Jak who laughs. "Joking. My feet hurt too, you know."

We've only been walking for ten minutes and Rashnid has begun to complain. Although he does sound like he might be in pain. I consider telling him he's in a better position than the boy from District Three but it's not worth the effort unless I want an argument – which I don't. I've never met anyone who could argue quite like Rashnid. Except for…

No need to remember _that_. If Kayn didn't have an irritating way of being in my head, I could have completed that thought.

Oh, damn. I remembered him. Never mind.

"Can we just stop, _please_," Rashnid begs.

"We could leave you here."

Rashnid rolls his eyes. "Alright, alright, man. I'm coming. But my feet hurt!"

"So do mine. And District One's. And Jak's. We're not complaining."

"Hey, how come I'm the only one who doesn't get referred to by name?" I ask Hulde. She glares at me. "Never mind," I add hastily. "I'll just see my special nickname as a sign of how much you love me."

OK, I should _not_ have said that. If looks could kill, a cannon would be going off right about now.

"I thought so, man," Rashnid shouts triumphantly. We look at him. During our little argument, he took off his boot and we are now looking at his left foot. Which has two dark lumps. "I have blisters."

"Why do you sound so pleased about that?" Jak asks.

"'Cause that's why my feet hurt." He looks more closely at his foot. "I think they're blood blisters, man."

"Yes, that's a wonderful thing to celebrate," Jak says dryly.

"I'll get the party food," I add.

"No need to mock me, man. I'm not sure I can walk."

Hulde grins savagely. "Of course you can. Hold out your foot." Wisely, Rashnid keeps his foot away from Hulde who adds, "I just thought we could burst it."

Rashnid's skinny face turns to one of complete horror. "No."

"Actually," Jak says thoughtfully, "that may be an idea. Then we can bandage it."

"What part of 'no' is too hard to get?"

"The 'N'," I tell him. He glares at me. Two death glares in two minutes. I'm doing well.

"Rashnid, it's the only sensible solution. If you're not going to walk."

"Like hell it is," the boy fumes.

Hulde suddenly grabs him and tells Jak to go ahead and burst the blisters. Rashnid struggles but is no match for the bigger girl. Jak smiles sympathetically before going over to Rashnid's foot. I look away. I know this won't be as bad as the boy from Three's death but that doesn't mean I want to watch.

I know it's over when Rashnid shouts that the pair of them had better start running. I turn around and see that his foot is now red. Jak is attempting to come near him with bandages but the smaller boy is having none of it. He's also attempting to beat up Hulde. All in all, it's quite a funny scene and I can't help laughing. I need the amusement after the last few days.

In the end, I have to be the one to bandage Rashnid's foot because he refuses help from the other two. Unfortunately, I'm still laughing so I accidently yank the bandage too hard. After that, none of us are allowed within a two metre radius of him.

Part of me is wondering how we can act so normally considering we've just seen someone fall into a swamp. But, at the same time, I'm not really surprised. Fourteen people have died so far and I've seen most of these deaths. Scarily, it's sort of normal to see people die. It's not a big deal any more.

I wonder whether that will be the normal thing in future years. After all, everyone at home can see all the deaths. Next year, will they look and just say 'Oh, hey, that boy's been speared. Oh, well. Who wants dinner?' I don't know why, but that idea freaks me out. If I win, maybe I'll remind everyone that these are real people. But how can I do that when I barely remember it myself?

"I give up," Jak murmurs in my ear, making me jump. "What are you looking at?"

I blink and look around. I've been staring at a bush. Not even a nice one. I've got to stop daydreaming. I don't want a repeat incident of what happened on Day Four. At least, I think it was Day Four. It was quite some time ago anyway. I tell Jak that I was just thinking and he looks surprised. I don't know whether to be offended or not.

We decide to keep hiking. We could go to sleep but I think we've reached the stage of exhaustion where we've got too much energy. Besides, it's easier to hike during the day; being able to see is a great factor in how well we do. As a result we start to head away from the swamp and towards the mountain – the one place in the arena that we've never actually been to.

So we keep walking. Although not particularly quickly as Rashnid is limping. I think he's exaggerating his injuries (well, I have blisters too!) but none of us can be bothered to argue with him. He's so annoyed that we'd probably lose.

By the time it starts to go dark, we're nearly out of the jungle. As we settle down, Rashnid complains because he has first watch and then complains when Jak asks whether he could lend me his sleeping bag. He's only quiet when Hulde tells him she'll do something worse than blisters to his feet if he doesn't shut up. She's quite a violent person.

As the anthem plays, we all silently look at the sky. I still don't understand why we do it. We _know_ who died; we were there. It's not like we're one of the random tributes who are still in the arena. They're hiding somewhere and they rely on this to know how things stand. We know how they stand. But, for some reason, we keep on looking. Voyeurism to the max, I guess.

Would it surprise anyone to learn that I have a nightmare? My mind gets really creative because in this dream, instead of being frozen, I'm sinking. Into a swamp. And the boy from Three laughs at me. When I wake up, I wake up coughing non-existent swamp water. As nightmares go, it's not the worst one I've had. But I can't help but remember the pre-Hunger Games days when I could go to sleep without nightmares.

Guess those days are gone. Or nights, if I want to be specific.

Before we leave, I take stock of what I have left. I need to re-fill my canteen. I have a nice first-aid kit. I have hardly any food left. This is going to turn out … interesting. Especially as everyone else seems to be in a similar position.

As though reading my thoughts, Jak mentions that we'll have to hunt. We nod and head out, keeping our eyes open for both animals and children. I spot a fly but Jak tells me this doesn't count. Also, the fly is poisonous. Only good for suicide. I decide to go without it in the end.

We've been walking for two hours when Hulde finally sees a creature with four legs. She smiles viciously.

"Dinner," she hisses. Rashnid looks over.

"Er, Hulde? That's a lion, man."

She looks at him. "What do you mean?"

"A lion. Four legs, mane, likes to eat humans. Man, didn't you pay attention in school?"

"Did anyone?" Jak murmurs.

"Hey, guys," I say, interrupting this fascinating biology lesson, "have you noticed that the lion is coming _towards_ us?"

They turn to see the lion stalking towards us. I raise my mace warily. Why do I think the lion isn't afraid of maces?

Jak holds out his spear, just as Hulde draws her axe and Rashnid his knives. Part of me thinks that this can't possibly be fair - four of us against one lion – but then the lion leaps at me.

I jump out of the way, just in time. Even so, a claw slashes against my pants leg. As I turn around, I see Hulde hack at the lion with her axe and Rashnid slash at it with a knife. I swing my mace but I only catch its tail. The lion roars and lunges out at Hulde. It's stronger than ... OK, I have no idea how strong a lion usually is but how can one lion be getting the better of us? I wonder if the Gamemakers have anything to do with it.

Stupid question. The Gamemakers control everything here. I wouldn't be surprised if they'd already picked a winner. Hmm … I wonder if they ever took a liking to me …

Another roar brings me out of my thoughts and I bring my mace down on a paw. But I'm not prepared for the lion to fall on _top_ of me. And not move. In fact, I think it might be dead.

I don't think my mace did that somehow…

"Hey, guys? Help?"

"What are you doing here?" is Jak's answer. I can't see him. All I can see is the leafy sky.

"I'd prefer to be standing up, Jak, but if no one's going to help me then you'll have to accept that I'm down here," I tell him.

"Not you. Him."

"The lion?"

Suddenly, the lion moves from on top of me. As I doubt the lion's come back to life (although I wouldn't put it past him) I assume Jak has decided that he does want to help me. Then I'm pulled roughly up and I feel a sword digging into my back. I glance around the area. Jak, Rashnid and Hulde all have their weapons raised and ready.

"Don't make a move," growls a familiar voice.

"Oh, great," I mutter. "You. Kayn, what are you doing?" I sound quite calm about being one move away from death but that's life, I suppose. After all, if I'm not avoiding being killed every day, then it's a day wasted. That's my new philosophy.

"I told you not to move."

"Since when did I ever do anything you told me to do?"

"Good point," he concedes. The tip of his sword is still digging painfully into my back. I can't help but feel that I should be _slightly_ more nervous than this.

"Thanks."

"Anyway," and now his voice is more menacing, "if you don't let me go, I'll kill Jewel."

I roll my eyes. "Yep, that's going to work. You realise that both of us are dead now, right?" I shake my head mournfully. "I was doing pretty well until you said that."

"What?" Kayn is confused.

"We're taking part in an event where the winner is the last one left alive," I explain patiently. "They're not going to care if you kill me. And," I add thoughtfully, "you're the one person who should want me alive for as long as possible – if I win, your family gets food for a year anyway."

"You don't think much of us," Jak murmurs.

I glance at him. "You're seriously going to let me live?" I ask and laugh. I get an image of my family watching this on screen. Mom will be clenching something tightly. Pearl will be sobbing. My father probably wants to kill me himself. I can almost _hear_ him shouting 'Stop being so stupid'.

Jak thinks for a moment. "You do have a point."

"Yeah, I'm on a roll today."

"You tried to kill me," Kayn says suddenly. "Don't you want me alive for as long as possible?"

"Not when you're trying to kill _me_. No offence."

He shakes his head and his whole body moves so I get shaken too. "So, what can I do now?"

"How about die, man?" shouts Rashnid before hurling a knife. Kayn ducks. I duck too – not out of choice, though I'm grateful.

"Who was that for?" I ask casually. "Me or Kayn?"

"Kayn. You're in the way, man."

"Sorry, Rashnid. I'll pick a better person to hold me captive next time."

"You never know when to shut up, do you, Jewel?" asks Kayn sourly.

"Hey, I'm about to die and it's _your_ fault. I'm allowed a bit of leeway," I tell him. The words 'I'm about to die' sink in and I start trembling. This is it, I realise. I've lost. I'm actually going to die. I knew when they called my name I was going to die but I'd sort of hoped that…

Never mind. Guess I was right for once. But what a thing to be right about!

Suddenly, I fall flat on the ground. I hear Kayn shouting out in pain and wonder if we're both dead. Except … well, I don't feel anything. Is that supposed to happen?

Tentatively, I stand up. I'll find out now if I'm dead. Looking around, I see Kayn clutching his leg and hopping to one side as an axe blade swings at him. Rashnid has drawn his knives and is running after Kayn. Jak is raising a spear.

So … are we all dead?

Kayn slashes out with his sword and catches Jak lightly on his chest. As the blond-haired boy staggers back, Kayn charges at Rashnid (he's still hopping as well, which makes this twice as impressive) and knocks him away. I move forward and swing my mace at him. I miss.

Kayn's sword swings out again forcing Hulde and I to take a step back. My former friend uses this distraction to run backwards through the trees. And then it's as if he was never near us. Jak gets up and takes his shirt off while Rashnid stands up, rubbing his stomach. Hulde's already picked up the lion.

Suddenly, something hits me. I look at Hulde.

"Why did you do that?"

She looks up, startled. "I thought we could still eat the lion."

"Not that. You attacked Kayn. Why?"

"Because I want to leave this place, District One."

"But he was going to kill me."

She looks at me scornfully. "I don't think so. He would have done it already. He wasn't going to kill you so I thought I'd kill him. _You're_ still useful, even if you are an idiot."

I pull a face. Getting Hulde to be nice to me is probably just as likely as the sun rising in the north tomorrow. Still, I don't know what to think about what she's just said. Part of me likes the idea that Kayn wouldn't kill me. But then, strangely, I'm annoyed. Because I tried to kill Kayn. I haven't forgotten what he did to Skira. Why won't he fight me?

Maybe he would have killed me. Maybe she got it wrong. He didn't seem particularly happy with me earlier. Although, if someone tried to kill me, I don't think I'd be happy with them either.

"Here, Jewel, want to skin this?" asks Jak, throwing something at me. "You have that knife."

"Sure. Skinning's my middle name," I reply absent-mindedly. No one bothers to ask me about this – they probably believe me – and I settle back to skin the lion. The fact that I've never skinned anything before doesn't deter me from not paying attention (always a good idea when handling a knife). Instead, my thoughts are focused on Kayn.

Part of me hates him. I almost want to jump up and chase him with my mace. He killed Skira for no reason. He held me at sword-point. He's changed.

But part of me was relieved to see him. When I heard his voice, I can't deny that part of me was happy. I guess that must be the part of me that still thinks I'm friends with him. All I can say is that that one part is really, _really_ tough.

"Jewel, you're supposed to leave some of the meat there."

"Huh?" I look down and realise that I'm attempting to skin bone. Which is impossible. "Sorry."

"You alright?" asks Jak.

"Me? Yeah, I'm fine. Skinning away."

He regards me carefully. "OK."

As I start to skin again, I suddenly realise that instead of chasing after Kayn like good hunters and killers, we all stopped to make dinner. Well, if we're setting precedents for future years, we're not setting a good one. I can't help but wonder if we didn't chase him because Jak and Rashnid were injured or because we need the food. Deep down, I suspect they wanted to let me have some time off.

Why am I always the emotional one anyway?

(Because no one else keeps making friends who either die or kill each other, part of me whispers.)

"Eh, man, I'll take that," Rashnid says, grabbing the lion part I was skinning off me.

"Why?"

"You're done, man. And you're trying to skin the bone again."

I look at it curiously. "Told you skinning was my middle name," I say in a strange attempt at joking. Luckily, he doesn't notice that I'm not my normal self. Unless I always sound so absent-minded. I like to think I don't but then again, I suppose I'll never know.

It's still midday so we decide to keep on walking. With nothing better to do, we track Kayn. He's not very good at covering his trail – we can see faint footprints in the dust. None of us talk as we walk. I think conversation in our group may have bitten the dust.

For the first time, it starts to rain. And the one thing we find out is that rain in the jungle is _not_ the same as rain at home. It comes down thick and fast; so strong that I can barely see. I do start laughing when I spot Jak automatically try to put an umbrella which he doesn't own up but he doesn't seem very impressed at my chuckles so I shut up.

Our march becomes a trudge. The dust is becoming thick and turning into mud. My hair is sticking to my face. Jak's fringe has completely covered his eyes. I'm not sure he can actually see but this hasn't stopped him from walking forward. I make a mental note to keep him away from hard objects. Then I remember him laughing at me when I walked into a tree.

OK. Where's the nearest tree?

As though he's reading my thoughts, Jak moves away from me. At the same time, Hulde loses her balance, skids and falls over. She gets up before we can offer her a hand and marches off as quickly as she can. Rashnid chases after her. I consider it but decide that I've spent enough time being knocked into the floor for one day. Jak seems to agree with me.

Tracking Kayn – or anyone else – has been forgotten. Rashnid and Hulde are walking and talking ahead of us, and Jak is muttering to me about how much he hates the rain. I absent-mindedly tell him a story about when I fooled my sister into believing the rain bred monsters and she must never go outside in case one ate her. This gets him laughing and saying he can sympathise with Pearl.

It's the first time any of us have spoken about our lives at home since Skira died. For a moment, I feel strange. But then Jak tells me about him getting lost in a rain storm when he was seven. Something's a bit off with his story though. I'm not sure what. If anything, I'd say he was putting too much effort into it. Which doesn't actually make sense.

We eventually catch up with Rashnid and Hulde; mainly because they've stopped. Hulde looks completely serious – as though she's going to tell us that our parents have died. I'm expecting something horrible when she speaks.

"I think we'll have to stop," she says seriously. "We can't see a thing."

"Oh, phew," I say in mock-relief. "I thought you were going to tell me I had six months left to live or something."

"I can make it six seconds if you want, District One."

"Um … I mean … that's terrible!" I exclaim. Besides me, Jak chuckles softly.

"Do you have a better plan, District One?"

"What?" I ask, exasperated. "I was being serious. I wanted to continue. But I don't have a better plan." I try to look as sincere as possible. "I'll shut up."

"Good idea."

Charming.

"So, man, should we eat then?"

"Can't eat lion raw. We could rest."

"Hey, you know what we forgot?" I ask. They look at me. "A tent. We're going to get soaking."

Jak raises an eyebrow. "You're not wet now?" he asks.

I smile. "No. I have a super-power: I remain dry at all times."

"District One, I thought you were going to shut up," growls Hulde.

"Oh. Yeah. Sorry." I take one look at Hulde and decide to make an effort this time.

"Congratulations to the ten remaining tributes of the first Hunger Games," booms a loud voice. We jump, startled. "It is a testament to your skill and courage that you have made it this far."

"Thanks," I mutter. Hulde thumps my arm as a way of telling me to be quiet. I rub it. She can really punch.

"That is why we have decided to invite you all to a feast. The feast shall take place at the second hour past midday tomorrow. It will be situated on the beach next to the Cornucopia. It shall remain there for three hours.

"Some of you may be thinking of not turning up. However, I shall tell you that this feast will comprise not only of food and drink but also of medicines and other sorts of supplies. Some of you may be in dire need of these things. Think it over carefully. Remember: the second hour past midday, on the beach next to the Cornucopia. I hope to see you there. And, once again: congratulations."

We trade looks as the voice falls silent.

"Do we go?" asks Hulde.

"Might be our only way of catching tributes, man."

"And we could get more food," adds Jak. They all turn to look at me. I sigh.

"You know what this means, don't you?" I ask mournfully.

"What?"

"We have to go all the way_ back _now."


	13. Fight For Your Food

**D****isclaimer:** I do not own the Hunger Games

**Geth342:** Well, here's the next chapter. Thanks for all the great reviews. The next update will be 14th August (it might be my last if i'm forced to run from the country the week after, but let's not worry about that :)) I hope you enjoy!

Chapter 13: Fight For Your Food

Trudging _back_ to the Cornucopia is not a bundle of laughs – at least, in my opinion. After all, it's taken us a lot of effort to get to the point we're at now; starting over is annoying. Hulde and Jak don't seem to share my sentiments. They're both eager to get to this feast.

Could be worse, I think to cheer myself up. We could have been invited to a random execution. That would be scarier. Although, if that was the case, we probably wouldn't turn up.

In addition to having to go back, it won't stop raining and that's making the ground muddy. Rashnid's fallen over twice, Hulde's fallen over once and I'm on two but it looks like-

Yes. Make that three.

Jak, amused, holds out his hand to help me up. I grab it and stand up, brushing the mud off my pants. I shiver miserably. Walking around in the rain is not fun. Not that the Hunger Games have been my example of a good time but this really isn't nice.

After a while of walking/trudging/falling I notice that the sky is darkening. The others have noticed too. I don't know how far away we are because we're not walking as quickly as we were yesterday, but we're definitely not just around the (proverbial) corner.

"Should we stop?" asks Hulde suddenly, breaking the silence.

"Man, we only have till tomorrow to get there."

"But we can barely see now," adds Jak smoothly.

"That's what nightglasses are for."

"In the mud?"

"We have to get there. At this rate, man, we're never gonna make it."

"Jewel, what's your opinion?"

I shrug and say nothing. Jak looks at me, confused. Rashnid is a bit more vocal.

"Jewel, man, that's not an answer."

I shrug again.

"Why aren't you speaking?" asks Jak. I glance at Hulde and then back at the floor. Jak catches on. "You're not answering because of Hulde?" I nod. "Why?"

I attempt to sign an answer but it doesn't really work. Probably because I don't speak Sign Language and Jak doesn't understand it. Hulde rolls her eyes.

"District One, either speak or die."

"That's a nice option," I mutter. "How would you know if I picked death?"

"You wouldn't have answered."

I blink, surprised. "Oh. Yeah."

She rolls her eyes. "Why aren't you speaking?"

"You told me to shut up forty minutes ago," I reply cheerfully. "And said if you heard another word out of me, you'd kill me. I think that we should keep walking until the anthem plays."

Hulde sighs. "You picked _that_ moment to listen to me?"

I shrug. "Imagine you were faced with an axe-wielding mani- girl who's twice your height who tells you to shut up or die. Then think about what you would do."

Jak starts to laugh and, after a moment, so does Rashnid. Hulde merely glares at me. Somehow, I doubt the pair of us will ever be friends.

My comment seals the deal anyway – we keep on walking for a while, ignoring the fact that we can barely see. The jungle is a lot more sinister at night. In fact, I have to keep reminding myself that we're probably the scariest things we're likely to find here. Well, apart from lions. But when the anthem plays, we have to work out again whether we should keep walking.

Jak points out that we can't see a thing. Hulde reminds him that we have to get to the feast and we should get there before the other tributes. I mention that I remembered my flashlight so we could have two people being able to see (which prompts Rashnid to grumble about people who forget sleeping bags but remember stupid things like flashlights) and that seems to solve the issue. Especially as Jak's planning on camping in the middle of a muddy path.

I win the draw for the glasses so I donate my flashlight to Jak. The glasses are amazing. I can see everything as clearly as if it were day. As I lead the way (probably not a good idea) I keep looking around, trying out the glasses. I'm not sure why I'm so amazed – I've seen trees before – but I'm having a great time. Simple things amuse simple minds I suppose.

Eventually, though, we have to admit that we should rest unless we feel like falling asleep at the feast. Hulde and Rashnid don't want to stay for too long so we decide to have a three-hour nap. Jak is the poor person who has to stay awake during these three hours. He doesn't look impressed.

The ability to sleep in the rain is a great one. It's also an ability which I don't have. I lie awake for most of the time and only snatch about half-an-hour of sleep. Hulde, however, is good at sleeping anywhere and even manages to snore. It becomes a rare occasion where I envy her – I'm exhausted.

When we get up again, it's starting to get light. Jak is irritable due to the fact that he is tired, I think. It's still raining, though not as heavily as before, and he scowls at the sky a lot. I think it's the first time I've seen him scowl. He still has the flashlight but Rashnid has the glasses so I'm back to not being able to see clearly. For an hour anyway.

As we walk, I wonder whether any other tributes will actually come to this feast. If it's just us, then the whole thing will be pathetic. Then again, we can't be the only ones who need food. Someone else is bound to come.

I shudder as I realise that whoever it is will probably meet their end at the feast. What's the saying? One man's meat is another man's poison? That would probably be proved true here. The Gamemakers would be happy.

Since when have I been philosophical?

I decide to daydream about District One in order to keep my mind off killing. I find myself wondering whether Calem has done what he said he would and gotten together with Ayla. The pair of them have been driving me crazy for months. If I die, hopefully one good thing will have come from this: those two being together.

By the time we get to the Cornucopia, it's mid-morning. My daydream has evolved to me going home, finding Calem and Ayla have kids (in only two or three weeks so very impressive), taking up my normal life again with my dad not snapping at me quite so often … It's amazing how evolved this dream has become. And at the same time, I can't help but wonder whether it will always remain a dream.

Once in the Cornucopia, we decide to plan our next move. We still have a few hours before the feast is due to begin and we're still tired. We decide that we should sleep for another three hours – I get to keep watch – and then hide near the beach, ready to ambush people. This might be hard as there's nowhere to hide but we decide that we'll deal with that when we have to.

I spend the three hours desperately trying not to fall asleep. To this end, I imagine I'm drinking lots of energy drinks. Unsurprisingly, this doesn't work very well – apart from everything else, I feel thirsty. The only good thing is that it's stopped raining and is getting so hot that I feel uncomfortable. Hopefully too uncomfortable to sleep.

When it's time to wake the other three up, I do it by tipping the remains of my water on them (there's a stream nearby where I can refill). The three of them jump up; they're snarling and using some swear words I've never heard before so I do at least feel like I'm getting an education. Unfortunately, Rashnid and Jak then decide to chase me; I run off into the trees. It doesn't work. Jak catches me and pours water back on me.

Hulde – surprise, surprise – doesn't join in with all of this and when I return back to the Cornucopia, soaking wet, she asks us coldly whether we've finished acting like children. I start to say I'm not quite done but Jak, wisely, nudges me before I can finish my sentence.

It's the hour after midday so we decide to find a place to wait. The beach is very bare: a long strip of sand and water, surrounded by the jungle (not that I was expecting much else). The best idea would probably be for us to hide in different places, except that people would spot us. For one thing, none of us know how to camouflage ourselves. We do try anyway, just out of hope.

Rashnid suggests that the four of us surround the area. I point out that one of us would have to hide in the ocean. At this point, Jak and Rashnid both look at me. I walk backwards, shaking my head.

"Oh, no," I say quickly. "Not a chance. Not me. Your idea, you do it."

"But you like water so _much_," Jak says evilly.

"Not as much as I like dry ground."

Rashnid grins. "Your camouflage is the worst."

"No, it isn't!" I gasp, indignant. "It's lovely. I think it'd win a prize."

"You only camouflaged your arm."

"But _really_ well."

"District One," growls Hulde from behind me. "You're outvoted. Now go wait in the ocean or stay here forever."

"How many ways can you phrase a death threat?" I ask curiously.

"Go!" she shouts. I look at the boys. They're both trying not to laugh.

"OK, I'm going," I yelp. "Just asking. Some people…" I walk off, still muttering under my breath about people who force others to go hide in oceans. Are they seriously expecting me to wait in the sea for twenty minutes?

Yes, actually. They are.

I wade into the ocean. My bag is still on my back. It's a good thing Jak has the flashlight – I don't think even Capitol technology can put up with water. I keep going until I can duck under the water easily.

So … how am I supposed to hide for twenty minutes? Fish might be able to breathe underwater: I can't. Looking up, I see Hulde making a 'ducking' motion to me. Then, because I have nothing better to do, I wave at her and stay where I am. She repeats the motion, along with a 'death' gesture. Annoyed, I put my head under the water. This is the last time I agree to anything at all.

What I'm not expecting is for something to grab my leg and start pulling me under the water. Panicking, I kick out and hit something solid. It releases me and I jump backwards (sort of). Warily, I hold my mace up. Considering the water comes up to my chin, this isn't easy. After a few seconds, my attacker surfaces.

It's the girl from District 12. I know this because, apart from me and Hulde, the only other girl in the Games is the crying teenager from Six. She's glaring at me and, quickly, lunges at me. I swing my mace down but she dodges.

What follows is a hard-fought and probably quite comical battle. She keeps trying to drown me and I keep trying to brain her. After a while, we swap roles – she has a knife which she tries to stab me with and I keep trying to push her under the water. Eventually, we give up. Fighting in the water is too hard: every time we try to stab/brain each other, the victim just dives underwater and if we try to drown each other, the victim just pulls the other person down too.

"Truce?" she pants after about ten minutes.

"Until we get to the mainland," I reply. Then, because it looks like I'm going to be stuck with her (and I'm certainly not ducking under the water _now_), I add, "Why are you in here?"

"Waiting for the feast," she tells me airily. "Observing." She pauses. "You could help me if you want."

"Help you observe?"

"No, get some of the stuff." She grins and I have to say, smiling makes her look great. Until this moment, I've just been seeing her as a bony, hostile girl. Her smile makes her eyes sparkle.

"Sorry," I say. "I'm already in a group. They've made me stand in an ocean and I _know_ them already. I don't know you. You might make me jump in a fire."

She glances towards the shore and the smile disappears. "Oh, yes, I know. You're a member of that … _pack_. You're the ones doing all the killing." She glares at me as though I've done something horrible to her.

"Hey, you just tried to kill me!" I exclaim. "How does that make you any better?"

"That was self-defence."

"I wasn't doing anything to you. Unless you felt sorry for the water?"

She keeps on glaring at me. "At least I haven't been hunting people down."

I feel my temper rising. "No, you've been hiding somewhere. If you wanted, you could have teamed up with those tributes."

"And you could have not hunted them down."

"Hey, I want to get out of these Games. If I have to kill people, then I have to kill them. You should know," I add snidely. "You tried to kill me before you even knew who it was."

She shrugs, annoyed. "It's not the same thing."

"So your killing is somehow better than mine?" I ask innocently.

She glares at me and then regards me carefully. "You're different from what I expected."

"Is that a good thing?"

She smiles again, ruefully, but her eyes still sparkle. "Don't know." She pauses and then says, "Who do you think will win?"

"Me," I half-joke, half-say seriously because I know I have to keep up some sort of façade.

"Because you keep killing children?"

"I can't win," I mutter. "No," I say in a louder voice. "Because I'm trying. Which is more than you."

"Oh, I'm trying, Pack Girl. I'm trying." She bares her teeth at me.

"Have you considered brushing your teeth?" I ask cheerfully, to break the tension. "Those don't look healthy."

Surprise flashes across her face. "You're joking."

I laugh. "Yes. Well, no – your teeth look awful – but otherwise, yes."

She regards me with suspicion. "How can you joke?"

"I think of something to say and I say it with my mouth. Why, do you not joke often?"

"But … what is there to joke about?"

"Why sit around moping?"

We meet each other's eyes. Her eyes are dark, accenting her olive skin and dark hair. Suddenly, she smiles tentatively. "Fair point, Pack Girl."

"Thank you … Coal Girl."

"I still think you're wrong though. You shouldn't have hunted those people down."

I can't help but agree with her mentally. I know it's wrong. I've been thinking it's wrong every single day. But isn't hiding just as bad? At least I'm trying to get back home again.

"The feast is starting," I say, pointing to the shore. A table is being lowered onto the beach.

"If I go, you might kill me," she says warily.

"Same to you then."

"Go together?"

"Sure."

We head towards the beach. No one has made a move towards the table. I think everyone's waiting for us. Brilliant. A welcoming party. Except, suddenly, I don't want to feel welcome. Glancing at the girl from Twelve, I get the impression she feels the same way.

We stand on the sand carefully. Almost as soon as we're out of the waves, I turn to attack the girl but she's already running for the table. I chase after her.

She grabs some items from the table – food, I think – and then turns to run. I swing out at her but she dodges and, as I chase after her, the sand slides from under my feet and I lose my balance.

As I stand up, I watch the girl. She runs into Rashnid but, quickly, slashes at him. For a moment, I think she's actually going to get away, scot-free. Then she runs into the boy from District Nine. Who is standing next to Korosh.

Rashnid runs forward to attack the tributes and Korosh starts to fight him. The girl slashes at the other boy who slashes back. Neither of them speaks but they suddenly have this idea that one of them has to die. It looks strange: the girl is tall and incredibly skinny, whereas the boy is short but not as skinny. Even so, it's clear that the girl is stronger and as they circle around, I see that she has the upper-hand.

I look around but no one else is running for the table. I hesitate and start to make my way towards the fighting tributes. As I do, the girl looks up and meets my eye. It's only a second but her gaze seems searching – as though she's expecting something. Then, just as quickly, she looks back at the fight.

And drops her knife.

She starts to run at the boy but in a half-hearted way. Her torso is completely open to attack. As the boy, with some surprise, lunges forward and pierces her chest with his knife, I see her smile. The cannon fires.

She did it on purpose, I think. No, I know. She chose to die rather than kill a thirteen-year-old boy. I realise that it was my fault as well; until she caught my eye, she had been winning. Something about me made her choose to die. But what?

Before I can consider this further, the boy decides to make a run for the table. Which means I have to stop him. I realise that I find this very unappealing but I lunge at him anyway and he turns and fights back. This is the first time I've actually been able to engage him in combat. I feel like I should be given a medal.

I'm both taller and stockier than this boy who, now that I'm getting a close look at him, doesn't look like he's had a decent meal for a while, if not in his entire life. Nevertheless, he lashes out ferociously with his knife. It rips into my pant leg and my actual leg. Annoyed, I thump him on the side of his head. I don't even use my mace which is weird.

He uses his knife again. It hurts. Every time I get stabbed or cut or thumped by a weapon, I'm always shocked at how much it hurts. Although, I guess weapon and pain are ideas which do go together.

I smash my mace towards his arm – if he has no arm, he can't stab me – but he uses his knife to catch the mace. We are now locked in some sort of power struggle and I have to say, for once, I'm on the winning end. There's something to be said for picking on people smaller than you. However, he then proves that, despite being four years younger than me, he's smarter; he moves his arm down and, not prepared for the lack of opposition, my arm flies downwards. He uses the opportunity to take a stab at my left shoulder.

I jump backwards at the same time that the blade pierces my skin. The upside is that I now have his knife so he can stop stabbing me. The downside is that I have a knife stuck in my shoulder and it _hurts_. The boy looks startled. I glare at him. He runs into me, knocking me over. I close my eyes, expecting death.

When nothing happens, I get up again. The boy has run over to the table and is filling up a bag. Behind him, I spot Hulde and Jak closing in on someone.

"Hello, Jewel," Kayn says.

"Oh, hey," I reply absent-mindedly. Then I turn. "You?"

He grins. "All I want is some food."

"All _I_ want is for this knife to not be in my shoulder," I say. "But that hasn't happened."

He reaches towards my shoulder. I turn, raising my mace. As he starts to bring his sword up, I slash at his face and although he moves, some of the spikes rip into his cheek. He drops his sword and screams. For a moment, I stop dead. I've never heard Kayn scream before. It feels weird to think that it was me who caused it.

Kayn grabs his sword from the floor with one hand and holds onto his cheek with the other. Blood is streaming through his fingers. I feel guilty.

"Kayn…"

He glares at me.

"You think this is a competition?" he growls. "I'll kill you. Just wait. I gave you a chance but now you're dead, Jewel Arram."

But his eyes say something else. Something like _I know. I'm sorry too._

And then he charges forwards, knocking me to the ground. I feel my head slam into something hard and then, a cannon.

* * *

"We better leave for the hovercrafts, man."

"Got all the food and stuff?"

"Yes. Oh, maybe we should…"

"No maybe, Jak. Get her bag."

I feel hands on my body, gently pulling something off my shoulders.

"Hey," I squeak. "Get your own bag."

The hands leave my body and I hear a startled shout.

"You're alive!"

"I bet you say that to all the girls," I reply. My head hurts and there's still a sharp pain in my shoulder. Sitting up carefully, I look at it. There's a knife stuck in it.

Oh, yeah. I remember. The boy from District Nine stabbed me.

"Jewel, you're not dead, man."

I look up and glare at Rashnid, then wince. Glaring _hurts_. "Yes, I noticed. Let's accept that I seem to be getting knocked out every other day and that I'm not dead. Or I'm a ghost." I pause. "Actually, that might be quite fun. I could hover."

Hulde rolls her eyes. "She's fine. Being an idiot, as usual."

"At least you know it's me."

"Pity whoever knocked her out couldn't have shut her up."

"Well, at least you didn't say 'killed her'."

Jak holds out his hand. I grab it and he pulls me up. "You're very optimistic, Jewel," he remarks.

"Yes, I already got told that." I decide that, now that I'm up, I should pull the knife out of my shoulder. The moment I attempt to tug it, a huge amount of pain shoots through me. Maybe I can go through the rest of the games with the knife in my shoulder. I could start a new fashion.

"District One, do you need that knife out of your shoulder?"

The thought of _Hulde_ pulling the knife out terrifies me. "No, I'm … OW!"

Rashnid laughs as he holds the knife he's just removed from my shoulder. "Nice, man. I'll have this." He looks at my shoulder. "You should bandage that, man."

"I hate you."

He keeps on laughing. "Love you too, man."

Jak has gotten some bandages and is wrapping my shoulder up. I look at him gratefully. He hands me some medicine for blood loss. I guess winning the feast has its perks. If you can call it winning.

"So, what happened while I was out?" I ask.

Hulde gestures to a dead body. "This boy tried to sneak in and steal some food. He attempted to shoot Jak with his bow. I killed him." She sounds like she's talking about the weather. "Rashnid was unconscious for a while after the boy from Ten hit him but woke up before you did."

"Didn't guess that," I mutter under my breath.

"The tributes from Nine and Ten ran away. Also, the boy we killed cut Jak with an arrow."

"Yes, thank you for telling her. You could have stopped at 'shot'." He pulls a face. "He cut my bad leg. Just when it healed too."

"Probably … what's that thing when what comes around goes around?" Everyone looks at me with confusion. "Um … let's just call it a metaphorical roundabout."

"Man, she must have hit her head _really_ hard."

"No one else came. You didn't look like you were breathing so we decided you were dead. It's nearly the end of the feast so we're going."

Rashnid opens his mouth to say something but Jak says, "Sorry about that, Jewel." and Rashnid closes his mouth again.

"Wait, so none of you saw Kayn?" I ask. I probably should protest at how quickly they decided I was dead but I don't have the energy. At least Jak apologised.

"Yes, I did," Hulde says. "He managed to pick up some food but he's going to die. I saw the wound on his face. I'm surprised he's not dead already."

She's smiling. I wonder if pain makes her happy?

I concentrate on not thinking about Kayn. Maybe I should adopt Hulde's attitude. If he dies, then good – one less tribute to worry about. If he doesn't, then … Kayn's going to be furious with me. Except he was already (or should have been) so this doesn't bother me. Much.

Jak finishes bandaging my shoulder and suggests that I quickly fill my bag from the table. I lurch over (running's a bit too hard for me) and push as many items as I can into the bag. While I'm picking some stuff up, a hovercraft appears above the table. Jak pulls me back just as it starts to beam up the table.

I have a quick glance through my bag. I have a lot of bread and meat as well as a bit of medicine. It should keep me going for a while.

We decide to go to the Cornucopia and camp there for a while before re-starting our hike. I notice that Jak is limping heavily again. Rashnid has a bandage around his hand. As we go, I spot the body of the girl from District Twelve. Her teeth are bared and her eyes are wide open. I shiver. She looks scarier in death than she did in life.

When we sit down by the Cornucopia, Rashnid says suddenly, "Hey, man, wasn't that kid from Nine with the guy from Ten? You know, the sister-killer?"

"Yes, he was," Jak replies.

"Man, can't believe he's teamed up with the guy from Ten. I almost feel sorry for him. He'll be next." Rashnid moves his hand across his throat and laughs.

I open my mouth to say that, actually, the boy from Nine didn't kill his sister.

"I thought you hated him," Jak says.

"Yeah, man, but at least I'm open about it. Guy from Nine's gonna betray him." He shakes his head. "Gotta pity him."

I open my mouth again but, instead of words, laughter comes out. After all, the four of us are supposed to be the most evil and fierce killers in this arena. I can almost see the girl from District 12 telling me that I'm a monster. And here we are, delivering judgement on other tributes. As though we've done nothing wrong. Now I _know_ the world has finally flipped.

And as the others stare, to fit in with this new madness that's gripped the world, I sit there. And laugh.


	14. Shut Up!

**Disclaimer:** I do not own The Hunger Games

**Geth342:** Thanks for all the great reviews and encouragement. It's keeping my spirits up. The next update should be 21st August (or 22nd due to a certain doomesday) unless i am forced to flee the country next Thursday in which case, it'll be as soon as i get internet access. Hopefully, I won't be fleeing so don't worry :) Hope you enjoy.

Chapter 14: Shut Up!

Rashnid looks very annoyed about having to give me his sleeping bag for the nap we plan to have but he doesn't complain. He seems to know that he would be out-argued which, for him, is pretty unusual. I thank him when he gives me the sleeping bag but he just rolls his eyes and goes to take the watch.

Even though I'm refreshed when I wake up, I find myself wishing I'd never gone to sleep. The image of me hurting Kayn replays over and over while the girl from District Twelve laughs wildly. It's not a nice dream and I'm happy to be woken up, even if it is by Hulde kicking me in the side. Besides, this method of waking me up is probably the physical equivalent of Mom shouting that if I don't get up soon, I'll be locked in my room for a week.

Thinking about home fills me with sadness because the longer I spend in this arena, the less convinced I am that I'll be going back. Yes, I've gotten this far which means I must be good. But the same could be said for every other person still here. So I'm in the same position I was at the beginning of the Games.

Looking at the sky as the anthem plays, I learn that Hulde's victim was the boy from District Eleven. I'm slightly amused to see that even in her picture, the girl from Twelve is not smiling. Then, before I can stop myself, a feeling of guilt lances through me (as well as a bolt of pain because I moved my shoulder) for finding her death amusing. And then I feel guilty for feeling guilty. Which is very complicated.

I notice that Kayn's picture does not appear. So, Hulde was wrong – he's not dead. But is he dying? I try not to think about it. If he dies, he dies.

As we pick up our stuff, Jak casually remarks, "OK, let's try again. Shall we go to the mountain?"

I hand Rashnid his sleeping bag back before realising that everyone's staring at me. "What?" I ask, confused.

"You didn't make a joke," Jak replies.

"Huh?"

"A joke, man. Like saying you'd changed your mind or something."

"Oh. Sorry." I'm really confused. I thought they preferred it when I don't make stupid jokes. Also, I was too preoccupied to think of one. "I can make a joke now if you like," I offer. "Did you hear the one about the-"

"Shut up, District One."

I give up.

Jak wins the glasses so he gives me my flashlight back. However, Rashnid looks a bit annoyed so I give it to him instead. He's very confused but I just tell him that I got sick of being able to see. That appeases him; he seems to think I'm back to normal. Whatever that is.

We start off hiking in deadly seriousness – complete silence as we listen for tributes, scanning the ground and bushes for people. After a while, I get bored and start singing in my head. It begins as a lullaby I had been taught when I was younger but, as I can only remember the first two lines, the words keep changing until I'm pretty sure the song has lost all of its original meaning. Then I realise the other three have stopped.

"What are you singing?" Jak asks. "It doesn't make any sense."

"Oh." I blush. "I didn't realise I was singing aloud."

"That's because you never learnt to shut up," growls Hulde.

"Man, it was even worse than usual. What song has the words, 'Keep on smiling every day, because I eat a lot of hay'?"

I blush even more. "It happens when I don't remember past the second line."

Jak grins. "You do that a lot?"

"Not really," I confess. "I was bored."

For a moment, a flicker of irritation crosses his face; then he laughs. "Hikes aren't exactly fun, are they?"

"I've done more amusing things."

"Like what?"

It occurs to me that I might be on dangerous ground here. My answer of 'having my teeth pulled out' might not go down well with the Capitol – it would suggest that I don't like the Games (I don't, but that's beside the point) and if Kimre is right, they probably wouldn't like that. So, instead, I say, "Well, I've been hiking without blisters before. That was more fun."

Rashnid decides to interrupt the conversation. "Man, you have no idea what fun is," he tells me.

"Weren't you complaining about blisters yesterday?" asks Jak.

"Yeah, but those were blood blisters, man. Completely different."

"District One has got everyone talking," mutters Hulde. "Oh, great."

That shuts us all up and we keep on walking in silence. I'm not sure why, but I feel edgy. Not edgy as in there might be tributes nearby but edgy as in … I'm missing something. I don't know what it is but there's something going on which is going right over my head. And while I don't usually mind being on the outside of things, this feels wrong. It doesn't help that my shoulder still hurts from the feast, making it hard to concentrate.

Eventually, none of us have the energy to keep on walking (or limping, in Jak's case) so we decide to make camp. At some point, we remember the lion we killed and, in the end, we throw it out. It's probably a stupid thing to do – especially considering the trouble it took us to get it – but it's beginning to rot anyway.

I have the second watch so I decide to enjoy what little sleep I can. For some reason, instead of being cold, it's very hot and I find it uncomfortable. In the end, I sleep on top of Jak's sleeping bag rather than in it. I notice that Rashnid does the same (though on his sleeping bag and not Jak's).

When Jak wakes me up for the watch, neither of us exchanges any words, which is a bit unusual. However, the boy looks exhausted and as soon as he lies down, I hear him lightly snoring. For the first time, I wonder how he – and Hulde and Rashnid – are actually coping with the Games. None of them seem to be having bad dreams…

Instead of looking around for tributes, I study my companions. I realise that all of them look different from the beginning of the Games: thinner and more drained. And they're jumpier. Even though they're sleeping, they all shift at the slightest noise.

I wonder if they're suffering as much as me.

I'm not suffering as much as some of the other people in this arena, I remind myself quickly. Or as much as the families of the kids we've killed. My suffering's quite small in comparison to the families. At least, in the end, I'll either never see the re-cap or only see it once. They have to keep watching all the time.

* * *

Hulde surprises me by waking up first. Neither of us says a word to each other at first but, as she begins to eat breakfast, she looks at me. I studiously eat my own food – I've learnt my lesson.

"You talk too much, District One," she says in a low voice.

"Yes, you mentioned," I mutter irritably. My shoulder's beginning to throb again and I'm not really in the mood for this.

She shakes her head. "You talk far too much, District One. You need to shut up more often."

"Yes, you keep telling me."

"Then listen to me or you'll be shut up for good."

"You know, I wasn't saying a word until you started speaking," I point out, still irritated. I know she hates me talking but threatening me about talking when I'm not saying a word is going a bit far.

"Just keep quiet. I've heard too much of you over the last few days."

I pretend to zip my mouth up and turn away from her. What is it with silent people always becoming talkative around me? First Kayn, then Skira and now Hulde … I must have some sort of strange effect on people.

Once Jak and Rashnid are awake and have eaten, we keep on heading towards the mountain. Following the night's example, the day looks like it's going to be very hot. In fact, the closer it gets to midday, the hotter it becomes and soon, Rashnid and Jak have taken off their shirts. Jak jokes that Hulde and I could do the same but we both decline (at the same time so we sound stupid). Unfortunately, this means that we have to sweat it out. I'm not sure which one I prefer: driving rain or stifling heat.

Why did the Gamemakers have to get the hang of controlling the weather?

As though to keep up with the annoyance of the heat, we only stop occasionally, for short breaks. I'm glad we're near the river and lots of streams because I'm drinking huge amounts of water. In fact, I'm half-scared that if I drink too much, there won't be any left at all. But that's impossible. Probably.

While I walk, I constantly listen for a cannon: to suggest that Kayn has died. Nothing sounds. Wherever Kayn is, he's still alive. Even so, I keep looking up towards the sky as though that will have some influence over the cannons, despite the fact that I have never mastered telepathy. In the end, even Jak gets annoyed at how jumpy I am and asks whether I can walk in a straight line. I walk in a zig-zag pattern, just to annoy him, and he raises an eyebrow. Rashnid, surprisingly, laughs and asks if I'm drunk.

Hulde tells me to stop fooling around. At least she didn't tell me to shut up.

When we finally reach the mountain, it's nearly dark. I feel a pang of disappointment; it's taken us ages to actually come here and it just looks like a mountain. I don't know what I was expecting (a secret lair?) but this wasn't it. I sigh as I kick a nearby stone. What a letdown.

Jak notices my expression. "I was expecting something cool," he says cheerfully. "Like a castle."

I grin at him, amazed at how he read my expression. "Or a secret lair."

"With a monster who we would have to kill. Like a story."

Automatically, I look behind at Hulde, expecting her to tell me to shut up. Instead, she says, "You two have big imaginations."

"Is there anything wrong with wanting a bit of excitement?" Jak asks innocently.

Rashnid laughs. "Man, you're in the most exciting event all year, remember?"

"Is there anything wrong with wanting _more_ excitement?"

Rashnid considers this. "No, man, probably not."

"So why can't we dream about having a monster to fight?" I ask.

"If the three of you don't shut up, the only monster you'll have to deal with is me!" Hulde mutters.

"Yes, but three of us against one of you would probably lead to your death," I point out.

She fixes me with a long look. "Then I'll kill you first."

"Hey, just raising a point," I stammer.

"We should camp, man," Rashnid says suddenly. "We've been going all day and I got first watch so I want to be awake for it. May as well just camp all night, man."

"Good plan," says Jak. I can't think of any reason to keep hiking, especially as I'm yawning, so I shrug and sit down. Hulde, as usual, looks annoyed but doesn't object. I wonder if she ever smiles because she's happy.

For once, Rashnid doesn't object to me borrowing his sleeping bag – he hands it to me wordlessly before extinguishing the fire we ate around and sitting in the middle of our makeshift camp. I want to assume he's gotten used to this arrangement (from my own stupidity) but something in his expression makes me wonder. He's thinking about something. And, I have to say, it's the first time I've ever seen him so deeply in thought. What could be worrying him?

* * *

I am woken up by Hulde kicking pebbles at me. When I sit up and glare at her, she apologises and goes back to eating breakfast. Rashnid is already awake but Jak is still sleeping. I scowl at the taller girl and go to eat my breakfast. I have a feeling that if I make a fuss, Hulde will just tell me to shut up.

Still, I can't help feeling irritated. Why does Hulde always have it in for me?

I give the sleeping bag back to Rashnid and thank him for letting me use it. To my surprise, he actually says I'm welcome, which I don't think he's ever done. Hulde seems to notice it too but all she does is glare in my direction. It's really irritating.

Eventually, I decide to speak up. "Why are you glaring at me?" I ask her quietly. She's been doing it for about a minute. Rashnid has gone to collect some water.

She rolls her eyes. "What makes you think that, District One?"

"Oh, I don't know … couldn't be the death glares you're sending me, could it?"

"Not everything is about you, District One."

Now I'm really confused … and annoyed. "I never said it was."

"Good. Then shut up."

I glare at her. "Stop saying that."

"Saying what?"

"Telling me to shut up. I'm not the only person who speaks here, you know."

"You speak the most, District One." She's infuriatingly calm.

"Yeah, well, you threaten us the most. I don't spend my time telling you to stop making death threats."

"That's because you know I would carry one out," she says smugly.

This is the moment I snap. "Yeah?" I challenge her. "Come on then, District Four. Carry out your death threat. I'm waiting."

"I haven't threatened you yet."

I get up, walk over to her and push her. Hard. "How about now?"

She gets up as well. "You shouldn't have done that," she says menacingly.

"Why not?"

She draws her axe. "Don't start a fight you can't finish."

I hold up my mace. "Don't threaten someone you can't kill," I reply, feeling stupidly proud of myself for making such a good comeback.

She lunges at me with her axe and I get out of the way. She's stronger than me but I know for a fact that I'm quicker. Hopefully, that should be a good element in this fight.

She swings again and, once more, I twist out of the way. My heart is thumping wildly and some part of me – the sane part – asks what possessed me to challenge Hulde. Still, it's a bit late to change my mind now. Too much damage has been done. One of us has to die.

This time, I start the attack, by leaping forward with my mace aimed at her head. I'm therefore surprised when someone charges me from my right and knocks me to the ground. The person stands up and moves in the direction of Hulde. I hear quiet mutterings as I get up. It's Rashnid. He's grabbed Hulde and is stopping her from trying to kill me.

"Calm down, man," he pants.

"I'll kill her!"

"Yeah, I'm sure you will but not today, OK, man?"

"Let me go!"

I see Rashnid pull her down slightly and mutter something too quiet for me to hear. She struggles a bit more but then, angrily, stands still. Then the boy turns to look at me.

"Do I have to stop you too, Jewel?" he asks reasonably.

"You interrupted our fight," I say for lack of any other answer.

He rolls his eyes. "I'll knock you out, man."

I hold my hands up. "OK, OK. I'll stop fighting."

"Good. Man, what set you two off?"

"I got sick of her having a go at me every chance she gets," I tell him.

"She demanded a fight," Hulde says.

He nods. "Fine. Hulde, stop annoying Jewel. Say you're sorry."

"But-"

"Hulde!"

She rolls her eyes and turns to look at me. "I'm sorry, District One."

Now Rashnid turns to me. "Jewel, man, you keep starting fights with people. We told Kayn he had to leave 'cause he killed Skira from temper. Man, if you keep trying to do the same, we'll have to do the same." He regards me seriously. "You gonna keep trying to kill us whenever you're annoyed?"

His words shock me. Is that how he sees me? As someone who can't control her temper and just lashes out at other people. That's what Kayn did. But I'm different. At least, I thought I was. But I _did_ just challenge Hulde to a fight. I did that to Kayn as well.

"I'll try to be calmer," I say quietly.

"Good. Apologise to Hulde for trying to kill her."

I have to admit, that sounds stupid. But I know that if I don't, he'll probably kill me. I look Hulde in her dark eyes. "I'm sorry I tried to kill you, Hulde."

She gives me a quick nod to show that she's accepted the apology. For a moment, the three of us look at each other – it's an awkward moment (well, what _do_ you say to someone you just tried to kill?) – but then Jak wakes up. I can't believe he managed to sleep through all of that.

He regards us sleepily for a moment. Then he sits up and, yawning, asks us why Hulde and I look so flushed and angry.

Rashnid answers for us. "They were arguing again, man. About which way to go."

I have no idea why Rashnid is lying but, considering he's just stopped me from dying (possibly) I'm not in a position to contradict him.

"So, which way are we going?" asks Jak.

"Left," I say at the same time that Hulde says, "Right."

We trade glances.

"Man, you're not arguing again," groans Rashnid. "Jewel won. We're going left."

For a moment, I wonder why I was the winner of this fictional argument. Then I realise that out of the two of us, Hulde is the more likely to keep arguing the point out.

"Don't I get a say in this?" asks Jak.

Rashnid groans again. He's a good actor. "Not you too, man. Yes, but your opinion has to end in left."

For a moment, Jak frowns. Then, he smiles and says, "Well, then, I think my vote lies to the left. That's democracy for you."

* * *

No one mentions it but I think we all hate the path I've (accidently) chosen. It's stupidly steep with long grass. At one point, we have to scale up a rock-face because it's that or see if we can jump a fifteen feet gap. Unsurprisingly, no one is too keen on trying it, though Hulde volunteers me as the guinea pig, saying this path was my idea. I'm beginning to wish I had said any other direction myself.

Once we've gotten onto a somewhat walkable path (I think I've just invented a new word, so that's something to be proud of today) (actually, surviving a fight with Hulde is probably something to be proud of too), we all relax and actually get to the task of tracking people. Apart from us, the only ones left in the arena are Kayn, Korosh, the boy from District Nine and someone else. We're not sure who, only that they didn't come to the feast. However, despite the fact that we were sure everyone must be on the mountain, we can't find them. It's almost as though they know we're coming.

The thought that sticks in my head about this, however, is that it's a big arena and we're only trying to find three groups of people. It's probably like finding a gem in a coalmine. I wonder if the Gamemakers will do something to get us closer together, like Jak said. For one thing, the Games have been going on for ages … nearly two weeks, I think. Surely they can't keep this going for months.

Well, they can, but it's probably not a good idea. People would get bored. We'd go mad (if we're not already) and the money needed for this to be shown everywhere must be huge. No, they're going to have to end the Games soon. Six of us will have to die quickly.

As long as it doesn't happen through another bloody earthquake…

Near mid-afternoon, we hear footsteps and quickly decide to follow the sound. Looking back, I can see the jungle – it's huge – but Jak drags me in the opposite direction before I can have a proper look.

We try to run as quietly as possible in the direction of the footsteps. However, after a few minutes, we can't hear them and we begin to wonder where the person has gone. Still, as we have nothing better to do, we keep running – right up until we reach another gorge. Looking across the gorge, I can see the figure of someone running away. How they got across, I don't know, but I don't think we can do the same thing.

Dejected, we decide to find a new way to get around the gorge. As we begin to walk again, every muscle in my body screams in protest but I ignore them. Hulde is giving me a death glare. I get the impression that if she could, she would kill me right now. She probably regrets not managing it earlier.

Why didn't she manage it? That questions swims into my brain but I stop to consider it (well, I keep walking but I stop thinking about how much I want to sit down). She would have killed me this morning if I had lost the fight. But Rashnid stopped it before either of us could get the upper-hand. Why? He hasn't actually explained his reasoning. And why did Hulde listen to him? She calmed down after he whispered something to her. But what was it? I look at them as we walk. They're talking in low tones. I could understand Rashnid stopping the fight if I was about to kill Hulde – after all, District Four has the best chance of winning at the moment – but he didn't even wait that long. Hulde wanted to kill me. She still does; she hates me. But why did Rashnid stop her? And what possessed her to agree?

"You look lost in thought there," Jak murmurs to me.

"Huh?" I jerk and then look at him. "No, not really. Just concentrating on the walk."

"Is that why you were going to walk into a pothole?"

I look at the floor. He's right – I'm just one step from putting my foot into a pothole. "I felt like studying the wildlife of potholes," I mumble. "This is the best place to start."

He raises an eyebrow. "Really? So, smart as well as beautiful."

I smile. "Do you just give out compliments randomly?"

"Never to a pretty lady," he says gallantly, placing his hand on his heart in a way which makes me laugh.

"Nice to see you're not mad at me," I comment.

"Hmm?"

"Well, I picked … and argued to go to the left and we've just had loads of problems."

He shrugs. "You think the rest of the Games have been easy?" He smiles. "So, how did you and Hulde start arguing?"

"We need a reason now?" I ask incredulously. "I thought we just did it anyway."

He laughs. "No, Hulde argues with you. You give up. But if Rashnid got involved…"

I shrug. "I just had … really strong feelings about the left. I'm quite persuasive when I have to be." Which is news to me but he doesn't need to know that.

He surprises me then by saying, "Well, I'm happy with this route anyway. It's good that you stood up to Hulde. You always let her bully you."

I stare at him. "I don't."

"You do. She tells you to shut up whenever you speak, threatens to kill you and you give in." He shakes his head. "It's very annoying to see. I was actually going to confront her today."

"You were?" I ask. I'm caught off-guard. I didn't see _this_ coming.

"Yes. She has to treat you as an equal." His voice is thoughtful but his eyes are unreadable.

I think for a moment. "Hulde doesn't like being spoken to like that. She'd probably try to kill you."

He shrugs. "You'd save me. I know you would."

I consider this. "Yeah, I guess I would. Rashnid wouldn't though. He'd side with Hulde – District Four are the most likely to win at the moment."

Jak sighs. "That would be a regrettable side-effect. But … we could still do it, you know."

I smile at him as he runs his hand through his hair. "Thanks but I don't want to annoy Hulde too much. And Rashnid hasn't done anything to me. I'll fight my own battle in my own time." Impulsively, I lean over and give him a hug. "Thanks for the offer though."

He kisses my cheek, making me blush again. "Let me know if you reconsider, Jewel. Just remember – apart from Skira, you were the first person I asked to join in an alliance with me."

"Hey, man, are you two lovebirds done?" Rashnid calls back mockingly.

"Dunno, are you two lovebirds done?" I reply as a joke. Rashnid scowls.

"No nicking my jokes, Jewel, man. Shouldn't you know that?"

"I do now."

He laughs. It occurs to me that, over the last two days or so, if I start laughing with Rashnid, Jak doesn't join in and vice-versa. I wonder whether his confrontation with Hulde had more than one motive. After all, they used to both love annoying me.

As it falls dark, we decide to camp. Once again, I notice that Kayn hasn't died. I'm beginning to doubt that he will. I mean, I know he'll die one day, if not in these Games, but I don't think it will be from the wound I gave him. Although, maybe in fifty years, he'll be walking around and, suddenly, the wound will just kill him off. And since I'd have to be dead for that, I'll be waiting to haunt him and laugh at him.

I think I might have gone insane.

I get to have second watch so I go to sleep earlier than the other three. I'm dreaming about Skira and the boy we killed on the beach, near the beginning of the dreams, when I feel something kick my legs. I groggily open my eyes as I hear a muttered curse.

I have time to blink before a person begins to fall towards me, blade outstretched.


	15. Keep Your Friends Closer

**Disclaimer:** I do not own The Hunger Games

**Geth342:** As you may have noticed, i haven't fled the country :) Anyway, thanks a lot for all the reviews and encouragement, and also for the accidental proof-reading you all seem to be doing for me. What can i say, i'm sort of dull. But thanks. The next update will be 28th August, hopefully. Hope you enjoy.

Also, is normalcy or normality the correct term?

Chapter 15: Keep Your Friends Closer

I have just one second to react and I use it to shift my weight to one side, causing the person on top of me to lose their balance. However, before I can move away from them, they grab me, hold me down and put a knife to my throat. The faint light of the rising sun allows me to see who it is.

"Jak!" I gasp. "What are you doing?"

He uses his free hand to hit me. I wince in pain. "Getting rid of you," he hisses.

"Why?" I'm not sure why I'm asking – my mind is going into overdrive with panic – but I ask anyway. Deathbed curiosity, I suppose.

"Shut up," he snarls.

"I don't have a right to know why you're killing me?" I ask. I don't sound at all brave. I'm squeaking and my eyes are darting all around the place, looking for an escape.

"It's the Hunger Games," he replies. "What other reason do I need? Deaths need to happen. You need to die."

"Can't we swap places? I don't like this one," I say as a weak stab at humour.

He rolls his eyes. "You never shut up, do you?" He pricks my neck with the blade. I wince. "At least you'll have to shut up now."

"If you ever get around to killing me, of course," I point out, probably rather stupidly. Part of me doesn't think Jak will actually do this. How could he? He's Jak!

His eyes narrow. "When I win, I'll have all the honour and glory I need and you'll be forgotten."

"Good for you," I encourage him. Maybe if I keep him talking … he'll remember he likes me?

"No pleading for your life?" he asks as he lightly draws the knife against my throat. I wince again but I refuse to let him see that I'm in pain. I'll die with dignity.

"Would it work?" I ask and then, quickly, shift again. He smashes my head against the ground. I see stars. At least I won't feel pain ever again in a moment I think grimly. But it's not much of a consolation. I don't want to die.

The knife falls into my neck but it doesn't seem to pierce my skin deeply. Something thuds onto my face and the cannon fires. Warily, I try to sit up and the item rolls off my face. I scream.

It's Jak's head.

"If you don't stop screaming, Jewel, I'll make you shut up. It's too _early_ for that."

"Sorry," I say shakily before stopping and actually thinking about this. Hulde said that. She's standing above me, holding a bloody axe. She's just saved my life. She called me Jewel. And she spoke like a normal person (apart from the death threat).

What the hell is going on?

"Hey, man, your throat is bleeding. Hang on, I'll get some stuff to clean it."

I look at Rashnid, trying to ignore my thumping head. "Er … thanks."

He smiles and walks over to his bag. After a moment, he comes back and hands me some anti-septic. I take it off him and dab my throat with it. Why do I feel like I must be dreaming?

"You're not dreaming," Hulde assures me.

"Did I say that out loud?"

"Yes."

"Oh. Sorry." I look around and spot Jak's headless corpse. "He really did try to kill me?" I ask in a surprised voice.

"Yes. I killed him."

"Thanks," I tell her. Then I think for a moment. "Um … I don't want to sound ungrateful but _why_ did you kill him? At least, why before he could kill me?"

She shrugs. "You have some use left in you, even if you are an idiot. He was too cunning." She looks around. "You can have his sleeping bag. We'll split the stuff in his pack." Without waiting for an argument, she walks over to the dead boy's bag and opens it. She then starts giving us items at random. Rashnid takes Jak's knife, commenting that he must have picked it up at the feast but it was his now.

I try not to look at Jak. Part of me is still in shock that he tried to kill me. I thought we were friends. Yes, I knew one of us would have to die, but it honestly hadn't occurred to me that he would try to kill me like… that. Or even at all. I liked him…

"We don't like trickery," Rashnid whispers to me as we put items into our packs.

"Huh?"

He doesn't look at me as he carries on whispering. "Man, killing someone with a chance, we don't mind. But killing someone in their sleep is unfair. _She_ hates that. That's why, man."

I try to get this straight. While Rashnid and Hulde have absolutely no problem with torturing and killing a child, they don't like killing people in their sleep. And I think Rashnid means that 'people with a chance' is anyone who can fight. Even the boy whom we killed by the sea could have tried to fight. He'd have lost but he could have fought.

This startles me. I haven't attributed any thoughts of honour to the tributes from District Four before. Especially Hulde.

The woman in question says that we should leave the area so that the hovercraft can get Jak's body. No one suggests making another camp – I'm definitely not in a fit state to take the watch anyway. Despite myself, I feel sad. He was going to kill me. But I can't help but miss him.

As we leave, I find myself whispering, "Bye, Jak." I look up guiltily but neither Hulde nor Rashnid seem to have heard me.

* * *

For a few hours, we hike in silence. We all appear to be pretending that it's just another normal day in the Hunger Games. But I feel curiously empty inside. When Jak was alive, I had someone to talk to. He even tried to help me. And now I know it must have been a sham. I've never felt so alone.

We stop to eat on a dusty path. As I bite into something – I don't know what it is and I don't care – Rashnid looks at me with concern.

"You're not happy today, man," he notes.

"Would you be if someone tried to kill you?" I ask dully. I can't help myself. I feel miserable. The only person in these Games who I thought liked me wanted to kill me. I even thought he liked … or I liked … what does it matter anyway?

He nods thoughtfully before glancing at Hulde. Their eyes meet for a moment. Then he sighs. "Jewel, man, I know you won't like this but … Jak wasn't your friend."

"No, do you think so?" I ask sarcastically. "And here I thought that trying to cut each other's throat was a sign of deep friendship."

He rolls his eyes. "No, man, I mean, he wasn't ever. He was manipulating you, man. I bet … I bet he tried to get you to team up with him against me and Hulde. Am I right, man?"

"More Hulde than anything but, yeah," I murmur sheepishly.

He nods. "And you said no so he tried to kill you. He had no use for you any more, man. He knew that if you died first, in your 'sleep', he could say it was by someone else. He wanted to make it seem like you were the one he cared about most, man. We'd have been next."

I stare at him. "What makes you think that?"

"Well, man, he isolated you a lot. Me and Hulde were apart from you two, remember?"

I think back. Now that he mentions it, it's true. During the hikes, Jak and I would often talk to each other, and Hulde and Rashnid would talk to each other. I don't think I noticed Jak doing it.

"And he was either trying to team up with you, man, or get rid of you. Remember at the feast when we thought you were dead?" I nod. "Man, he was the one who convinced us you were dead. Said he thought he'd seen Kayn kill you. And yesterday, he kept trying to get you to say dangerous things, man."

I think back to yesterday. I suddenly remember him asking me about things which were more fun than the Games. Rashnid stepped in and made a joke about blisters. Was he … trying to save me? And Hulde told me to be quieter. Was she actually making a reference to Jak and not herself?

"What about what you told me?" asks Hulde. "When Skira…"

"Oh, yeah. Jewel, man, you remember fighting with Kayn, yeah? You fainted. And you woke up, right?"

"No, Rashnid," I say sarcastically because I'm still not in the mood to act like a normal person. "Kayn killed me. It was tragic. You and Hulde went to my funeral." I glare at him. "Of course I woke up!"

"If you're not going to be nice, District One, I'll find a way to make you."

"Hey, you called me District One!" I exclaim. "Things are almost back to normal."

She rolls her eyes but I can see the glimmer of a smile on her face. I try not to stare at it for too long. I've never seen Hulde smile at me without her wanting to kill me.

"Can I continue?" asks Rashnid irritably. I nod. "Anyway, man, I said we should probably try and wake you up. Jak said we should hunt Kayn down. I said we should stay and he wasn't so sure, man. Then you woke up and he started to act like it was the other way round. I didn't argue 'cause I knew you wouldn't believe me over him."

"Hang on," I say thoughtfully. "How do I know you're not lying?"

"Which one of us tried to kill you, man? Me or Jak?"

"Point taken," I say though, really, it doesn't prove anything.

An awkward silence descends between the three of us. After a minute, Rashnid says hopefully, "Did that make you feel better, man?"

"Not really … but thanks for trying."

He nods. "Well, man, I'm glad he's gone anyway. I hate watching exactly what I say." He grimaces. "Heartless … man, I got no words for that guy."

I'm astonished at the amount of hatred Rashnid is emanating. I wonder when he started disliking Jak so much. Out of the corner of my eye, I see Hulde nodding in agreement. That makes sense, since they worked together on this plan.

Yet in the corner of my mind, I can't help wondering about Jak. Because even though he tried to kill me, he always made me happy. And even when he was trying to cut my throat, he was taking his time about it. I can't help wondering whether maybe, just maybe, he didn't want to go through with the deed.

Or maybe Rashnid's right and he was just taking malicious pleasure in it. I don't know. I don't know why anyone does anything anymore.

* * *

We start the hike again. As we walk, I notice that there seems to have been a role reversal: Rashnid is the joking, talking one. Hulde is the person who makes the snide comments. I'm the brooding one – I'm still thinking about Jak. Still, by mid-afternoon, I've cheered up a bit. Hiking with just Hulde and Rashnid has become far more relaxed. Rashnid makes enough conversation for all of us and Hulde is quite happy (though she still calls me 'District One'). She even nods when Rashnid says, "No point in rushing, man. If we find 'em, we find 'em."

The one thing which does make me laugh to myself is that, if I talk too much, Hulde tells me to shut up or she'll kill me. It's amusing because, yesterday, I would have gotten annoyed but, considering the events of this morning, I'm beginning to see the funny side. I think she does it automatically now.

The mountain terrain is beginning to get quite nice. The view is spectacular and it's quite easy to navigate. There's even some birds flying overhead though, knowing the Games by now, none of us have a particular wish to try shooting one down. It would probably be armed with a gun.

When night falls, I look up to see Jak's picture in the sky. I wonder what the other tributes are thinking. I assume they all know we teamed up. What are they thinking about the fact that one of us has died? Do they think another, running tribute did it?

"Hey, man, you don't have to borrow a sleeping bag now," Rashnid says brightly as he and Hulde get ready to sleep.

"Yeah," I say less enthusiastically. "But I'm on watch first."

As he goes to his sleeping bag, I see Hulde mutter something to him and then, to my surprise, thump him on the arm. He yelps and rubs the area she hit. Then he mouths something. He's smiling. I wonder why he likes being thumped.

During the watch, I swing the flashlight around aimlessly. I'm not really concentrating on keeping watch; my thoughts are too busy. I can't help but remember that Jak wanted to go home and meet his baby niece. I guess that girl will never really know her uncle. But, at the same time, it's not my fault. I didn't kill Jak. Hulde did.

For the first time, I wonder what it would actually be like to die. I know I've had a few instances where I've thought I was about to die – this morning included – but I haven't really thought beyond panic. The idea of not being able to breathe is horrible but what actually happens? Darkness? An afterlife?

Well, there's only one way to find out and it's not very appealing. Maybe ignorance is bliss.

I wake Hulde up at the end of my watch. We don't exchange words, even when I keep a knife in my hand.

I find it easy to fall asleep – the day's been really long – but all my dreams are filled with thoughts of dying. When I wake up, I find that there are tears trickling down my cheeks. Rashnid and Hulde are sitting a little space away from me and pointedly ignore me wiping my face. Once I'm sure I'm not about to burst into tears (or hysterical laughter which I feel like doing. I suppose that would be more normal for me) I join them. They're discussing which direction to go in. I say that I'm keeping silent on the subject of directions after making us go in such a stupid way two days ago. Rashnid laughs. Hulde merely nods.

As we begin to hike again, Hulde brings up the idea of sleeping during part of the day and hunting during part of the night. Rashnid and I consider the idea but neither of us has any objection to it. By this point, I don't care when I'm walking.

At first, we take the hunt seriously. I know this because every time I open my mouth to say something, Hulde tells me to shut up. However, as always, we calm down eventually, though it's only when we're near the time we usually start to sleep.

Rashnid, suddenly says, "Hey, man, I got Jak's 'dream'. Anyone notice that?"

"What?" I ask, caught off guard.

He laughs. "Jak always said he'd like to be surrounded by pretty ladies, man. And guess what!"

"You need your eyes checked?" I ask.

"Your brain checked?" adds Hulde.

Rashnid grins, not at all put off by us. "Beauty's on the inside," he says in what he probably thinks is a soulful voice. "And you two got it, man."

Without meaning to, I exchange a glance with Hulde. "I'm not returning the compliment," I tell him. Hulde starts to laugh.

Rashnid looks at her. "Man, you're harsh."

As Hulde laughs at him, I feel … I'm not sure. "Did you two know each other before the Games?" I ask. "You seem … close."

I'm expecting them to avoid the question but Rashnid cheerfully says, "No. We met here, man. You and Kayn knew each other though, didn't you?"

"Huh? How'd you…"

"You two were sat together on the first day of training, District One. And Kayn knew about the clubs you do."

"Oh, yeah. I forgot about that." Then something occurs to me. "Hey, how do you know that, Hulde? You weren't with us that day."

"It's not important, District One," she growls but glances towards Rashnid. I wonder why he told her. I guess they must have run out of things to talk about after a while.

"OK," I mutter.

She shrugs. "Why would you care anyway? This isn't a place to make friends."

Like I hadn't noticed _that_.

"I was curious," I tell her.

"You're too curious for your own good."

"But at least I know you won't kill me without a warning," I say cheerfully.

She glares at me. "I can give you a warning if you like."

I pretend to consider this. "No, I'm alright." I look at Rashnid. "Does this mean you'd give Korosh a warning before you tried to kill him?" I ask.

"No, man, but I'd let him see me. Like a proper man. If District Nine hasn't murdered him by then. But," he adds in a generous voice, "if and when I have to kill you, I'll give you a warning."

I'm surprised at how casual he sounds. "Thanks, Rashnid. You're too kind. Do I get a present as well?"

He keeps on smiling. "If I can find one, man. Jewel, you know one of us has to die (or both, if someone else wins…)"

"(That means you, Hulde)."

"District One, there are four other people left in the Games."

"(True)."

"Anyway, man, my point is, you know that. I know you'll try and kill me, man. I'll try and kill you. But we'll do it properly, man."

"You mean, the usual 'stop breathing' way and not any of this 'if I believe you are dead, you are dead' stuff?"

"Can't you be sensible just one day of your life?" asks Hulde irritably.

"I don't think so."

She sighs and begins to speed up. I notice she's mostly gone back to treating me like an annoying idiot. Part of me doesn't care because I'm used to it now, and I don't know whether Rashnid would stop a second fight (I think he only stopped the first one because, apart from me being 'useful', he was trying to keep Jak in check) so challenging her again would be stupid. But part of me is slightly offended because she's been acting nicer than usual and now she's back to hating me. It's depressing, if nothing else.

* * *

After sleeping and waking up, we go hunting in the night. It _is_ easier with three people but, in a way, it's a lot lonelier.

The next day, we decide to follow the same pattern. It's sort of strange, really. If you'd asked me, at the beginning of the Games, which members of our group I would have hated to be left with, I would have said Hulde and Rashnid. But I don't feel at all worried about being with them. Yes, I now keep hold of a weapon when I go to sleep and I'm quieter than usual (though Hulde doesn't seem to have noticed) but I don't dislike them as much. In the conversations we've had, Rashnid has seemed very friendly. Hulde's got a way to go before she reaches that stage.

Still, a lot of the time, the pair of them have their own conversations. It's not as though they're excluding me on purpose – at least, Rashnid definitely isn't – but it's almost as though they forget I'm nearby. Presumably because they're so used to only having each other to talk to. At one point, I actually wonder whether I would be able to kill them both without them noticing. I don't – obviously – and though I'd like to say it's because I find the idea horrifying, it's really only because I know neither of them would do it to me. I'm actually worried that I even consider the idea at all.

I wonder if that's what Jak did? Come up with an idea of how to win the Games and then act upon it? After all, there's only seven of us left. It would be so easy to…

I force myself to concentrate on hunting.

We don't manage to find any signs of the other four tributes until the next day. To my amusement, I'm actually the one who finds the footprints because I'm concentrating so much on the ground. When I point them out, Rashnid cheers and Hulde looks mildly impressed.

We converse in low mutters as we walk. Hulde and Rashnid are swapping stories about parts of District Four and I find myself getting a free education in the many accidents a fisherman can have. In return, I give them a few stories about the many accidents a worker in District One can have. By the end of it all, I find myself feeling lucky that I'm in the Games. To hear us tell it, every day back home is a day of death and mayhem.

(Although I'm not sure I believe Rashnid when he says they have a giant monster in one lake. Especially when Hulde calls him an idiot: which she hardly ever does in normal conversation. I also don't think he believes me when I reciprocate with the 'Gem monster'. I get called an even bigger idiot.)

I think the one thing which shows we've lost all motivation since the death of Jak (apart from these conversations) is that we aren't looking around properly. Therefore, we get a shock when Hulde looks around, straight into the eyes of the girl from District 6. Her eyes widen in fear and surprise. Hulde's eyes relax slightly and she grins lazily. At the same time, Rashnid and I draw our weapons.

As Hulde moves confidently towards the girl, I follow behind her. We've all been curious about where this girl was during the feast and, in fact, how she's survived this long. In my mind, I see her training score of two.

Hulde screams.

OK. Crying teenagers who get scores of two should _not_ be able to do that.

The girl leapt forward, grabbed Hulde's left hand and, somehow, broke her finger. Now, as Hulde screams in pain and shock, she loops a vine around Hulde's neck and swiftly knots it before zooming off into some nearby bushes. I start to chase after her but Rashnid immediately runs to Hulde. She's choking; the vine is too tight. I spare another glance in the direction of the other girl but she's already gone! Then I turn back to Hulde.

Rashnid is attempting to undo the knot around Hulde's neck while the older girl tries to breathe. His fingers are shaking and he can't do it.

"It's too tight, man!" he shouts. "What should I do?"

"Your knife!" I shout at him.

"What?"

I run over to Hulde, push Rashnid out of the way and draw my knife. Hulde's eyes widen when she sees the blade and she attempts to move me out of the way.

"Do you want to die?" I snap. She shakes her head. She's turning a different colour. That can't be good. "Then stay still!"

She stays still. Trying to keep my hand steady, I make her crouch and try to move the knife under the vine. When that doesn't work, I frantically saw at the vine, ignoring Hulde's body bucking from lack of air.

For a few seconds, I don't think this is going to work. But then my knife makes a groove and, soon the vine snaps from around her neck. She falls forward, gasping for air. Her neck is bleeding a bit from my knife.

After a minute or so, she looks up from her position on the floor at me.

"You saved my life," she tells me in a hoarse voice.

I shrug. I probably could say something about how I do that a lot by accident or joke that she's my slave for life. But, all I can think of to say is: "You saved mine."

"I had to save yours. To make sure Jak couldn't keep on acting as he did."

"No," I say. "You could have let him kill me first. We're even."

She shakes her head. "No, District One. I still needed you which is why I saved you. You had no reason to save my life."

I roll my eyes. "Rashnid might have had an issue with it," I mutter. Seeing her open her mouth, I add "It's also very helpful for me to go around this arena with a strong fighter. So I have use for you too."

"But-"

"Leave it," I growl, exasperated. "We're even, OK? Consider it thanks for saving my life, no matter what your motives were."

She opens her mouth to argue but I keep my expression as calm as possible. After a moment, she nods.

Rashnid, who has been watching us silently, takes this moment to say that I have a cooler head than him. Again, I instantly think about saying something about me keeping an ice-pack attached to my head but I don't. I don't know why, but it seems stupid. What would be the point of saying it?

_It might make Rashnid laugh, _part of me thinks.

But that has nothing to do with me, really. Even if I like these people, even if I just saved Hulde's life – and I only did it because Rashnid _would_ have killed me if I'd left and … never mind – I'm not here to make friends. I'm here to win.

I can't help wondering when, in the last twenty minutes, I lost my sense of humour. Maybe seeing how the girl from District Six deceived us all has made me remember how serious these Games are. Hulde could easily have been me, if I had gone first.

"Hey, man, we should go," Rashnid says to me. I jerk from my thoughts. I don't know how long I've been sitting there for but it was enough time for Rashnid to set Hulde's finger.

"Yeah," I say awkwardly.

We start to hike again. Rashnid asks Hulde if she's recovered yet but I don't really listen. I'm still wondering about myself. Egotistical, maybe, but I'm sort of surprised by how remote I feel. I don't even know why. All I know is that, the moment Hulde felt grateful towards me was the moment I took this seriously. Maybe because that's the last thing Hulde would ever do – be grateful. So this is the last thing I would ever do – be serious.

By the night, we've lost all trace of the girl from District 6. Hulde is being very careful with her left hand but has kept up an earnest conversation with Rashnid. At some point during the night hike, I seemed to regain my sense of humour and joined in myself. Neither of them commented on it and accepted me back immediately. In fact, the only time I felt slightly outside was when Rashnid made a reference to tomorrow being special. Hulde told him she didn't care about it. Neither of them explained what tomorrow would be.

I get the first watch of the night. As I watch Hulde and Rashnid get ready to go to bed, I ponder my earlier depression. I wondered why I should be acting so stupidly with Hulde and Rashnid. Liss had definitely been against it. But, seeing Rashnid laughing and Hulde smiling makes me think. And when Rashnid tells me not to wake him up if he's having a good dream, the answer hits me.

I'm not acting stupidly. I'm acting normally. And even though that makes me seem idiotic, I can't help feeling that even one drop of normalcy is good for a place as bad as the Hunger Games.


	16. Beware Of What These Games Do

**Disclaimer:** I do not own The Hunger Games

**Review Reply to **_Noble Silver Dagger_: Hey. Thanks for reviewing. I'm so, so sorry i forgot to reply to you in the last chapter! Anyway, glad you like it and thanks for telling me that it's normalcy :)

**Geth342**: First of all, thank you all for telling me whether it's normalcy or normality. Majority says normalcy. Funnily enough, the dictionary says either and i don't know why i didn't check that first. Anyway, thank you all for the kind reviews :)

Before i forget, i have some news UK residents, especially Irish folk, may be interested in. Catching Fire is available in Waterstones and in Easons, but only in those two shops. Also, on UK Amazon. Unless you live in my city, in which case, Catching Fire is sold out (i got there 10 minutes too late!)

Anyway, next update will be 4th September. Hope you enjoy :)

Chapter 16: Beware Of What These Games Do.

Rashnid is surprisingly cheerful when I wake him up for his watch. I comment on it but he says he'll tell me when I'm in a more coherent mood. That makes me curious. He and Hulde did mention that today was supposed to be 'special'.

I don't know how long I sleep for before I hear Rashnid shouting the alarm, but when I wake up, the sun is just beginning to rise. Rashnid shouts again and I jump up, startled. This is the first time we've ever spotted someone while we were resting. As I stand up, gripping my knife and my mace, I see two figures coming towards us – Korosh and the boy from District 9.

The boys have spotted us as well. Rashnid flicks a knife at the boy from Nine. He ducks. The pair run towards him. Quickly, I give Rashnid my own knife which he accepts before charging Korosh. That leaves me with the boy from Nine.

As I run towards him, out of the corner of my eye I see Hulde getting up, carefully protecting her broken finger. Then, I face the thirteen-year-old and lunge forwards. He dodges and swings back at me with a short sword. I guess he must have picked it up from the feast. Although he's OK, he doesn't seem particularly confident. Korosh might have given him a few lessons but that's all the experience this boy has had. I find it strange that Korosh would teach him anything at all but, thinking back to the first time I spoke to him, he made it clear that he would only team up with people who wanted to survive. He probably tries to give out as much help as he can too.

As I narrowly avoid being stabbed in the stomach, I see Hulde walking towards us, axe raised. I don't know why but I shake my head at her. She turns away to face Korosh and Rashnid, her face unreadable. I think I shook my head because I want to finish this properly. This boy only wanted to help his sister. Someone like him deserves to die in a fair fight. Or, as fair a fight as a seventeen-year-old can manage to give him.

I remember the last time we fought. He won that time but he let me go so he could get food and weapons. If I win, I don't think I can do the same. I need to win these Games. I can't show any mercy.

I move my mace in quick blows to his body. He stops them all but I notice that his blocks are getting weak. He's tired. I feint to his right and, as he wearily moves to block it, I swing at his left arm. The mace crunches into his shoulder. He opens his mouth but no sound comes out. His face is defiant and resigned. I know what he's doing. He's refusing to let me see that I've hurt him. Once again, I'm struck by the bravery of this boy.

He slashes his blade at me but I move backwards. I know that if I blocked it, I would probably knock it out of his hands. But the idea of killing him when he has no weapon seems wrong. Maybe Rashnid and Hulde _have_ gotten to me. Instead, I swing the mace towards his skull. He moves and I catch his right arm instead. Then, I make one last smash at the side of his skull. There's a horrible crack as bones break and his neck snaps with the force of the blow. He falls backwards. The cannon fires.

I've killed the bravest person in this arena. I've successfully ensured that his parents have lost both of their children.

I feel like a monster.

His eyes are wide and staring. The undamaged part of his face is still defiant. Numbly, I crouch down and close his eyes. He shouldn't have to look at the arena.

"You're with your sister now," I tell him quietly. "Where no one can hurt either one of you. Where you'll always be safe."

As I stand up, my common sense catches up with me. It's dangerous to say those things here. I look around guiltily. Hulde is nearby, unable to join in Rashnid's fight. For a moment, I think she hasn't heard. But then she meets my eyes. I scowl defiantly at her.

To my surprise, she smiles sadly. "You're a good person, Jewel," she says softly – almost too soft for me to hear. "Not like…" She leaves it there but I know what she was going to say. Not like her.

I think about it. For everything I've said, Hulde isn't a terrible person. At least, I don't think so. She has a sense of honour. She could have done any number of horrible things here. She could have killed me. She could have assumed that I had to save her life rather than being surprised I would.

And what about me? I'm not a good person. All I think about is how best to win the Games. I lose my temper all the time.

"Yes, like..." I reply quietly. "Exactly like …"

I leave her to interpret it. Maybe she'll think I'm saying we're both terrible people. But I hope she recognises the first meaning. She's not a great person but she isn't a bad one either.

The sound of metal hitting metal makes us both jump. I forgot that Rashnid and Korosh are fighting. Glancing at Hulde, I see that she did the same. I look over to the two struggling boys. I want to help but I don't know which one to go to. I should help Rashnid but Korosh is … well, I don't think I'd like two good people to have to die today.

Except that Rashnid's a good person too.

As it is, their fight is so fierce that there's no way to successfully target either boy. Hulde looks frustrated. Every so often, I start to move to target Korosh but then they'll swing around and I have to move back again.

Suddenly, Korosh staggers backwards. His shirt is soaked with sweat, his face is resigned and his chest has several huge cuts in it from which blood is flowing freely. He looks down and then, slowly, topples forward.

A cannon fires.

Rashnid turns to us, his face triumphant. "I told you … I'd get him, man," he pants. "I … did it." He sees us staring at him in horror. "What?"

Hulde, wordlessly, points to his chest. Rashnid looks down with surprise. Blood is spreading over his chest too. He has a knife stuck there, as well as another cut. There's no way to fix it. If we moved the knife, I think he would die instantly.

"Oh," he says quietly. Then, he sinks to the floor and looks up at us. "I … lost, man. I'm sorry." I don't know why he's apologising but I'm glad he is. I don't want him to die. He looks at Hulde and then past her. "I tried, man … I tried." He pauses and then asks quietly, "Am I … a warrior now?" His voice is growing faint. I think he's seeing his father – the man who thought he was a waste of space as I recall.

I look at Hulde but she's frozen. I crouch down next to him.

"You are a warrior, Rashnid," I whisper numbly. Tears begin to well up in my eyes. "There was never any doubt that you were a warrior."

He smiles as his eyes close. "Thank … you, Father. Feel … so … tired."

He seems to be seeing his father in me. "Go to sleep, son" I tell him, furiously blinking away the tears. "All warriors need to sleep."

The cannon fires for the third time. I look at Rashnid one last time and then stand up. I open my mouth to say something to Hulde. I stop.

Because that's when I learn what a person looks like when their heart has just broken in two.

It's only for a second. If I had been looking in another direction, I would never have seen it. But her face has crumpled and her whole body sags. She looks like she'll never see a sunrise again.

I turn away again. I feel like I've intruded on something private.

After a few seconds, I see her move towards Korosh's body and start to remove his bag. I do the same to the boy from District 9. Neither of us speaks. I still feel like sobbing. I _liked_ Rashnid. But not as much as Hulde did.

She makes no move towards his body. I don't suggest taking any of his items. Instead, we silently begin to walk on, leaving him and the other two boys in their resting place. At least Rashnid died smiling.

As we walk, I keep repeating to myself 'Three tributes down, only three more to go'. But it doesn't work. I don't feel numb about their deaths. I don't feel triumphant. All I want is to go back and wake them up. To have Korosh walk in on me again and smile wisely or have the boy from Nine see me again. To have Rashnid start to tease me or scowl at me or start talking with Hulde.

I glance over at my companion. Her face is set like stone as she looks straight ahead.

Neither of us is concentrating on where we're going. I'm still thinking about the fight. Hulde … well, I think she's thinking about Rashnid. I wonder what happened to them. How did they fall in love? I didn't even notice. Though, now that I think about it, there were some signs. I'd even commented on how close they were the day before yesterday. I guess two people don't get pushed together for so long without feeling something. But what a stupid place for it to happen.

Still, if Hulde dies, she'll know what love felt like. If I die, I never will.

"It was his birthday today, you know," she says suddenly. Her voice is soft. Startled, I look at her. "He's seventeen."

I feel a jolt of surprise. Birthday? Somehow, it never occurred to me that a tribute might have a birthday during the Games.

"I … I didn't know," I reply. Was this the 'special day'? It must have been.

She nods, looking into the distance. "He was excited. He was planning on making us do some sort of dance as his present." Her face remains impassive but her voice fills with guilt. "I told him I'd do it over his dead body."

I try not to wince at the bad choice of wording. I search my mind for something to say. "At least he got to see his seventeenth birthday," I say finally.

For a moment, I think I've said the wrong thing and she's going to shout. But, she nods and sighs. "You always look on the bright side, District … Jewel. Why?"

Everyone always asks me this and, if I had been asked any other time, I would have said something about wanting to make people happy. But, somehow, that doesn't feel right. I shrug.

"I don't know. Maybe because that's all I have left."

"All you have left?"

I shrug again. "That feels like the only part of me I recognise. I always look on the bright side and make jokes. Anything else about who I am … I don't remember it." I don't look at her while I'm speaking. I'm not even sure why I'm being so honest.

She nods slowly. "These Games, they do something to us," she murmurs quietly. "I don't know. They bring out the worst in some people and the best in others." She bites her lip and I know she's thinking about Rashnid. These Games really did bring out the best in him. Unlike us. I don't think either of us has been acting like our best.

"At least they'll have to end soon. And then whoever wins can go back…" I trail off. It's not much of a consolation at all. After all, one of us two will have to die.

"Go back to what?"

I think of Mom, Dad, Pearl and everyone else. What will they say to me if I win? "I don't know."

"Me neither." She sighs. "I've lost everything worth having."

I can sense there's some hidden story here. Something more to Hulde than meets the eye. But one look at her face tells me that even if I ask, this is one thing she will never tell me. Not because it's me, I think. More because we're on national TV.

"I just want to go back," I murmur. "I want to see my family again."

We trade looks. It's a strange thing. We're two people in the arena who should, by all rights, hate each other. But instead, we keep saving each other's lives. And instead of watching her every move and trying to keep silent around her, I feel like talking.

These Games, they do something to us.

"Why did you volunteer for the Games, Hulde?" I ask suddenly. I'm not sure why I'm asking but I'm curious.

"For the money and glory."

"Oh. That's all?" I can't help pulling a face. After all of this, I had sort of hoped that Hulde was a bit less shallow.

She doesn't reply and we go back to hiking up the mountain. I'm still not sure where we're going but it looks like we're aiming for the summit. I go back to trying to numb my mind to everything. It's not working. Just like I told Liss that I'm not a scary person, I don't think I'm a numb person either. Still, Liss can't read minds. She doesn't know what I'm thinking.

We keep walking until about midday when we stop to rest and eat. Hulde's face is still impassive but her eyes show how hurt she is. I think _I'd_ give anything to be able to read minds, just to know what she's thinking.

I look at her eyes again. Maybe I wouldn't.

"I volunteered to win," she says suddenly. I've noticed that Hulde seems to enjoy saying things suddenly. "All my life, I've always come second. No matter what I do. And coming second is horrible. Everyone knows you just missed it. Coming second is just like coming last. In fact, I'd prefer being last to being second."

I can't help smiling. "You're the exact opposite of me," I tell her. "I always come first at nearly everything. And I always get picked first for things because of my surname." She looks confused so I explain. "Arram. First letter of the alphabet. It's really annoying coming first." I think for a moment. "Not sure I'd mind it here though."

"You want to win?"

"Of course. What's the point of doing all of this otherwise?"

She nods. "I don't want to come second," she mutters. "Not again." She thinks for a moment. "I want to win. I want the money and power. But…" She trails off again.

"I'm not giving up yet," I say when she shows no signs of continuing. "I made a promise that I'd go home."

She smiles pityingly – it doesn't look normal on her face. "You and every other tribute in this arena."

That stings but I'm determined not to let it show. "Yeah, I know. But it doesn't stop me from trying. I promised to go home and I'm going to do it."

"But what if I want to go home too?"

"Then I'll just have to kill you," I say simply.

She studies my face. "I see."

"It's like Rashnid said-" I begin and then stop myself. She winces as I use his name. I'm being an idiot. As usual.

We get up again and begin to hike. Once again, neither one of us speaks. I keep my eyes peeled but Hulde has lost all motivation. We're looking for either Kayn or the girl from District 6. I don't really want to meet either.

I wonder what people at home are thinking. It's just four tributes now. Only three districts left to play. Is the Capitol making everyone watch? In a way, I think it's an odd punishment. TV's meant to be fun. What kind of people say 'We're punishing you by making you watch TV'? Although, I guess that when TV shows reality, it is a hard punishment. The government is definitely smarter than me.

It's strange to be walking in silence without really concentrating. I think the Games are definitely going to end soon. It feels like they should. But the Gamemakers should be happy. Three deaths today.

Thinking about it, the Gamemakers must be sort of sadistic, to organise a game where people have to get hurt and killed. I wonder if that was a job requirement. I can almost imagine it. 'Help Wanted. Requirements: Must be a sadistic creep. Must like controlling weather'.

It occurs to me that this is the first 'joke' I've made to myself since before the fight this morning.

By the time evening falls, all I can say for certain is that we're up the mountain somewhere. Kayn and the girl from District 6 are nowhere to be seen. As we decide to set up camp, the anthem plays. I look at the sky. First is the image of Rashnid, flashing all over the arena. Hulde looks up too. His image is only there for about ten seconds but as I look at Hulde, it feels like longer. He's smiling in his photo. Funny. That's how he died. Smiling.

The next photo is, obviously, the boy from District 9. He looks serious in his photo. I don't want to look but I force myself to. I should at least have the strength of mind to face the person I brutally murdered this morning.

Finally, Korosh's photo flashes up. Hulde looks away again. I don't think she can look at the face of the person who killed her … what? What was he exactly? I look up anyway. I remember how Korosh asked me to join him on the first day of training, as a joke. I think he knew I was never going to simply 'survive'.

As the anthem ends and the sky becomes dark again, Hulde says that she'll take the first watch. Briefly, I consider setting some sort of trap around me but I don't. Maybe I don't like Hulde all that much and maybe she hates me but I don't think she's going to make any attempt to kill me tonight.

* * *

I wake up halfway through the night. Confused, I glance over at Hulde. I can only see her outline. She isn't making any noise but her body is shaking. I think she's crying without tears or sound.

I close my eyes and pretend to go back to sleep.

* * *

Hulde 'wakes' me up an hour later by gently nudging me in the side. In a way, I miss the usual 'kicks and pebbles' approach. 'Nice' Hulde just isn't right. Or maybe it is and I've been seeing the wrong Hulde. But I just don't like it. It feels like the real Hulde has died.

We don't say anything to each other as we swap places. She lies down with her back to me. I wonder if she's actually going to sleep.

I keep my eyes open for Kayn or the unknown girl but I'm not really expecting them. After all, why would they go out looking for the only pair of allied tributes in the Games? Then again, they don't know that for sure … they might stumble into us by accident…

I wish I hadn't convinced myself to pay attention.

Hulde wakes up a few hours later. I'm still not convinced she ever went to sleep and the fact that she has bags under her eyes doesn't make me feel any more certain. Apart from briefly considering which way to walk, we don't say a word to each other.

The hike is mostly uphill. As we walk, I count the days we've been in this arena on my hands. I get to nineteen. Nearly three weeks. Amazing. It's been five days since Jak tried to kill me. It's been eight since the feast. It's been nearly two weeks since Skira died. It's been nineteen since I was friends with Kayn. Properly friends.

It's been one day since Rashnid died. I still can't believe he was killed on his birthday. I wonder what the father he wanted to impress so much felt. His son lived just in time to see his seventeenth birthday and he died trying to impress the man. What was going through his head?

"What do you mean, you always come first?" asks Hulde suddenly. "In every competition?"

"You're a lot more talkative than you used to be, have you noticed that?" I ask her.

She scowls at me. "Your bad habits rubbed onto me."

I can't help laughing which sounds weird. Neither of us have laughed for a while. "Sorry." I grin at her then remember her question. "Not in every competition. I win things I'm good at but I'm always picked first. I mean, I'm the first tribute of Panem. Even if I lose the Games now, I'm still the first person to ever be called up and officially listed as a Hunger Games tribute. That sort of thing always happens to me."

She nods. "Being first means you get a lot of attention. Sometimes, I don't think I'd like that attention. That's the nice thing about coming second – even though it's like coming last, people leave you alone."

"I think first place here would be nice though," I quip. "From the life point-of-view."

She smiles but then frowns again. "It would be good to come first," she says slowly. "But it _is_ tempting just to give up. Not have to worry about afterwards."

I stare at her. "You're the only person who volunteered to win in these Games and you're having second thoughts? Are you insane?"

"None of you ever asked me what I had waiting for me back home."

"What?" I'm thrown. "What's that got to do with anything?"

"You had that conversation," she says calmly. "Rash- I got told. But none of you ever asked what I have at home."

"Well, I think it was one of those moments where you really had to be there…"

"It wouldn't have mattered anyway," Hulde says bluntly.

"Huh?"

She shrugs. "There's nothing left for me at home. I thought that if I won, I would have something. Now … maybe there will be. But I don't think it can replace…"

I hate conversations with euphemisms. They're not fun and they make me have to think. I'm not sure if what we're saying is against the Games, the Capitol or just against ourselves. I almost feel like I'm in school again. I think she might be talking about Rashnid. But I can't shake the feeling that there's something else too. I open my mouth to ask her what winning can't replace. And then I close it. Do I _want _to know? What if it's something terrible and I just can't bring myself to kill Hulde, if the time comes? She doesn't seem to want to tell me. Why would she? We're not friends. Maybe it's better if this remains a secret.

"I don't like to look into the future," I say instead. "I'm just going to win, go home, and deal with it there."

"First winner of Panem. Won't you hate that?"

"Would you?" I shoot back.

"Maybe."

"Did Skira rub off on you too?" I ask cautiously. "You don't seem very-" I shut up again. What a stupid thing to say. Of course she isn't very happy.

She grins suddenly. "Don't worry, District One. I'm not giving up. I refuse to lose. I can deal with winning."

"Uh … glad to hear it?"

She chuckles savagely and, for a moment, I feel like I've got the normal Hulde back.

We walk in silence for another minute or so. Then, suddenly, a cannon fires. I look around wildly, in case the last remaining tribute is nearby. There are only three of us left. Hulde, me and … who?

I turn to ask Hulde who she thinks is the other tribute and get a shock when I see her axe drawn. She swings at me. I leap backwards and hold out my mace. Why is she attacking me?

"Hulde, stop it!" I shout.

She hacks at me again. I duck out of the way. "You'll have to die now, District One," she shouts. How can she be so fierce with a broken finger anyway?

"Why?" I ask as I block another axe blow.

"I'm not having you and Kayn team up on me. District One has the best chance of winning now. I refuse to die this easily."

She picks _now_ to develop determination?

"OK," I pant as I drop to the floor to avoid another swing. "But I didn't mind with you and Rashnid."

She falters for a moment, at the sound of his name, but then carries on. "Then you were a fool."

"Thanks," I mutter. Then I think of something. "Hang on. How do you know that Kayn's the one who's still alive?"

That stops her. "What?"

"We just heard a cannon," I explain, using this opportunity to back away. "What makes you so sure that Kayn is still alive? Maybe he died from his wounds. Or maybe the girl from District 6 killed him. She was pretty skilled."

She frowns. "And what if he _is _alive?"

"Well, if you kill me now and then find out that Kayn is dead, I _will_ haunt you. Besides, she got the better of you once. Who's to say she wouldn't again?"

She scowls at me. "What do we do? I'm not letting you team up with Kayn against me."

I think for a moment. "We'll stay a team 'til night. Then we'll see who the dead tribute is in the sky. If it's Kayn, we'll hunt the girl down and kill her (or get killed by her). If it's the girl from District Six, you can fight me. Whoever loses the fight dies. That way no one teams up with Kayn."

It occurs to me that Kayn is getting the bad end of this conversation.

She considers my proposal. "Very well, District One," she says formally. "We'll wait until the night."

"Great. Would you mind putting the axe down then?"

* * *

We stop for a bit, to rest. Just a quick nap. Once again, Hulde takes the first watch and, after two hours, wakes me up. I take the second watch. I think she only sleeps in the last half-hour.

We hike again but neither of us talks much. We make the occasional comment – Hulde seems unsure of what to call me and I find myself being referred to as 'District Jewel' a lot in these moments – but it's nothing as in-depth as our earlier talks. Once again, I find myself thinking about who Hulde actually is. But then I banish it from my mind. It will do no good to find out.

I do wonder about her comments about finding losing the Games easier. In those moments, it sounded like she wanted to give up. But why? Does she want to join Rashnid? That can't be it – she'd just kill herself.

_You're a good person, Jewel. Not like…_

_These Games, they do something to us._

Those lines drift into my head. She sounded like she was thinking of something further when she said that. Her purity of self? I know I keep thinking about it but Hulde never seemed the type. This is a woman who wanted to torture a fourteen-year-old! But then … I didn't stop it either. And I worried about it.

We sit down to rest, and eat, near nightfall. We still don't trade any words. When the anthem plays, we both look at the sky.

One picture flashes up.

The girl from District Six.

Once her picture has gone, we look at each other. Hulde rises and motions for me to do the same. I stand up.

"We agreed," she says.

"Yeah, we did."

She draws her axe. I draw my mace.

"Goodbye, District … Jewel."

I smile back at her. How funny that the only truly fair duel to the death so far (probably) is between me and Hulde.

How strange that one of us is going to die now.

"Bye, Hulde."

She lunges at me, axe swinging towards my chest. I sidestep it and hop forward, smashing my mace towards her arm. She blocks me using the shaft of the axe and tries to move the axe blade under my guard to my stomach. I arch backwards and swing my mace into her shoulder, just as the blade slices at my skin. Warily, we move backwards from each other. I try to ignore the blood welling on my stomach.

She starts to move to my right, so I mimic her movements. We circle each other. She's scarily strong. But I'm quicker. And she's more injured than I am. Though she does have a higher pain threshold.

Her axe blade flashes in the firelight as she comes in with a series of chopping blows which I hastily block. My nerves are humming. It's do or die now. I try to swing at her legs but she ducks down and knocks my mace to the floor. I lose my grip.

Uh oh.

She smiles savagely. She's got me. She knows she's got me. I know she's got me. Every viewer must know it.

I can't give up now. There must be a way out. Surely.

I can't go back on all my promises.

That thought gives me a burst of speed and I duck under her axe swing and tackle her feet. As she falls with a grunt of surprise, I pick up my mace. Soon, we're up and circling again.

This feels strange. This isn't some practice duel. This is for real. And it's entertainment.

I decide to lead the attack this time and leap forwards at her head. She's still winded from her fall and doesn't move all the way out; my mace rips into her shoulder. I feel the blade on her axe slice into my leg but it's too light. As she tries to move back, I swing again but I miss and catch her left hand. With the broken finger, I realise.

She hisses in pain. All of her fingers are broken now, not just one. She looks at me and our eyes meet. I want to apologise but she wouldn't want to hear it. The time for being human is past.

As she tries to slice the axe at my right side, I duck and smash the mace into one of her legs. Then, using the distraction, I raise my arm and catch the mace on her jaw. Her neck snaps back and her skin tears. Finally, I smash the mace into the right side of her face.

She falls backwards, her body hopelessly mangled. The cannon fires.

I've won.

I feel like I should say something, just as I did to the boy from Nine and Rashnid. But there's nothing to say. I walk away.

I'm nearly home. Just one more tribute. I should be feeling triumphant or anxious or happy. But I don't. I don't feel any of those.

I'm tired of these Games, I realise. I miss my family, my friends. I hate everything here. I'm sick of it all! I'm sick of being constantly alert. I'm sick of never knowing what to do. I'm sick of being hungry, tired and injured.

And I'm sick to death of killing.


	17. Keep Your Promises

**Disclaimer:** I do not own The Hunger Games

**Geth342**: If this comes out weird, it's because there was a problem with the documents and i'm getting this up in a strange way. Anyway, thanks for all the reviews everyone. Wow, there were a lot of them. I'm glad you're all enjoying this and, again, thanks for pointing out where i'm going wrong (by, the by, _HIT_, i changed the summary, just for you!).

Also, if anyone's interested in doing fanfic challenges, i started up a forum. Feel free to check it out!

The next update will hopefully be 11th September, unless i'm away, in which case, it'll probably be 13th September. Hope you enjoy.

Chapter 17: Keep Your Promises

The hovercraft collects Hulde's body once I'm far enough away. It's strange to think I killed her. After all the death threats, it should have been the other way around. And isn't it funny how she always wanted me to shut up and now, because I've killed her, I have?

So funny I forgot to laugh.

I should start looking for Kayn but it's dark now. Even though I have the glasses and a flashlight, I don't want to keep going. I just don't feel like hunting him down – after all, I'm sure the Gamemakers will find a _lovely_ way to bring us closer together eventually. Like setting tracker-jackers on us or sending people with guns to poke us together. Why should I deprive them of the chance? Instead, I go to a tree and curl up to sleep. If Kayn kills me then I guess he wins. I think I'm beyond caring at the moment.

My dream starts off nicely: I'm looking at the Cornucopia. Skira's there, sitting near the beach and twirling a flower. Korosh is nearby, watching her. The tributes from District 9 sit near the entrance to the swamp, talking to each other – even the girl, who couldn't speak in the interview. Finally, Rashnid is sitting, looking into the trees. They're all dressed in normal clothes, not the outfits we were given.

Hulde walks into the clearing and sees Rashnid, who stands up and walks over to her. They hug. I don't move or say anything. As far as I'm aware, none of them know I'm there.

But then more of the tributes walk into the clearing – Jak, the boys from District 3, and District 5 and District 8; the girls from Seven, Eight and Twelve. People whose deaths I've caused. And they see me. They walk towards me, pointing and jeering. The others notice and they come too. All of them want to know who gave me the right to live while they die. As I try to answer, more tributes pour in. The girls from Six and Ten … even tributes I had little to do with like the girl from Three or the boy from Eleven. And they come closer and closer, shouting and crying.

I tell them to leave me alone. They come closer.

I ask them to be quiet. They shout louder.

I say I'm sorry. They jeer at me.

I hit out at them to make them go away. They fall to the floor.

My dad appears in front of me and asks me if that's any way to solve a problem but I'm already swinging out and I knock him to the floor too.

And then I wake up, gasping.

It's early morning. A beautiful morning by the look of it. I shake my head, trying to forget the dream. It wasn't the fact that all of the other tributes wouldn't listen to me that terrifies me. It's the fact that I wouldn't listen to my dad. That once I'd started hitting out, I wouldn't stop.

I eat some food from my bag. I don't like the silence. It's too weird. I'm used to hearing other people breathing or talking. This is too much.

"Where shall I go today then?" I say out loud, just to shatter the silence. I look around. "I think I'll go to the top of the mountain. That seems like a good goal."

Anyone watching me must think I'm a lunatic. But then, maybe they've always thought that. After all, I'm the girl whose favourite thing in the Capitol was the showers. But, if I'm a lunatic, I'm a lunatic who's nearly won the Games. And no one can fault me on that.

Once I'm packed up, I begin to walk. I only went to sleep about one hundred metres from the place where Hulde and I fought and I end up going back there. Hulde's body isn't there, of course. I saw it being picked up. Did Kayn see it?

I look around the area briefly. The only sign that we were here is the pile of burnt logs from the fire. That puts me on edge. I don't know why but I find it unsettling how someone as formidable as Hulde can be erased from the arena so efficiently. I take one last, edgy look around before heading up the mountain.

I'm surprised by how much I hurt. I look at myself, taking stock of my injuries, as I walk/limp. My leg hurts from Hulde slicing it yesterday, as does my stomach. I have a long scar on my left arm. Several cuts and bruises decorate my face, arms and legs. I feel like a walking disaster. I probably am one, in the minds of most people.

As I walk, I find myself thinking of Hulde and Rashnid again. In a way, I hope that what I saw in my dream came true for them – that they're together again. If that's the case, maybe it's a good thing they both died. After all, these Games are a stupid place to fall in love. What were they going to do if they were both the last pair here? Kill themselves? I try to imagine it. No, I don't think either of them would want the other to do that. I think they'd fight each other. But I can't imagine how that would end.

I think Kimre was right when he warned Kayn and me to stop being friends. Not because the Capitol might cause our deaths but because it meant we could never be in a similar situation. I'm going to fight him and kill him. And it would have been so much harder if we liked each other.

I bet the people of District 1 are excited. After all, the first ever Hunger Games and they're guaranteed food and money for a year. _And_ one of their tributes will come home. They can't lose.

Our prep teams too! They put in so much work before and it's about to pay off. Thinking about it, Athena said she thought I'll win the Games and I have to think of new jokes. I'm probably all joked-out now, though. Still, if I'm replacing Liss next year, I can just be the 'brooding' mentor. If Kayn wins … poor tributes. Two silent and scary mentors.

It's mid-morning when I stop for a rest. As I look around, I vaguely recall the daydreams I had when I was in the Capitol. Of coming home to see cheering crowds, of my dad saying how proud he is of me, of a cute boy asking me on a date. I try to imagine my homecoming now. It's different. The crowds aren't cheering because I can't see any reason for people to cheer. Twenty-three people will be dead. My dad doesn't say how proud he is of me because he doesn't know what to say to me. A cute boy looks at me but I don't return his gaze. I've seen what love can do. I don't think I'm ready.

My mom always says I imagine things too much. I just hope she will still be able to say that to me later.

The weather seems to be remaining curiously constant. It's a nice temperature and there's no wind. There's no sound of animals. This gives me the feeling that today is the last day. By tonight, I'll be in the Capitol. It's just a question of whether I'm dead or alive.

If I get a choice, I think I'll go for alive.

It's strange to think I might be going back to civilization soon. I'll never have to do anything like this again and I can forget all about it. As I get up and walk, I wonder, vaguely, what I'll do with all my free time if I win. Apart from being a mentor, I wouldn't have to work. I could forget all about the last month.

At the back of my mind, I hear the girl from Seven shrieking in pain as I hit her.

Maybe I'll never forget these Games. I don't think they could ever leave me. How do you forget killing someone?

I'm alerted to the fact that I can't keep heading in this direction when I walk into a prickly bush. I wince as the thorns open one of my wounds from the fight yesterday and look around, slightly confused.

"That's a big thorn bush," I mutter to myself as I look up. "One day, I'm going to walk around and not nearly kill myself through nature."

I half-cower, waiting for a reprimand. But, of course, no one tells me to shut up. No one's there to do it.

I look around again. There's no way up this path. In fact, as far as I can see, the whole area is blocked off.

Wow. I wonder where the Gamemakers could possibly not want me to go…

I head back the way I came. But, soon enough, there's another thorn bush, forcing me to go in a different direction. I'm heading back down the mountain, I realise. Despite myself, I feel a thrill of excitement. The Games will be over soon. The last fight is going to happen.

I wonder where Kayn is then. He's obviously further down otherwise I wouldn't be going this way. Unless I was meant to climb through the thorn bushes ... now that I think about it, that might have been it. If they can make us have earthquakes and things like that, I'm sure I can be forced to climb through thorns.

No, I decide. I'm not doing it. I don't care if Kayn is at the top of the mountain with a sign saying 'I give up, Jewel, kill me' I refuse to walk through a thorn bush. After all, they can't hold me to sword point and _make_ me go up there. At least, I don't think they can.

I keep heading downhill. Every so often, I'll see thorn bushes in the distance and have to change direction. They've really gone all out with this gardening.

I'm trying hard not to think about Kayn but I can't help it. I can't believe that I have to kill a boy I've known for about eleven years. Suddenly I remember lots of things about him. Things I haven't thought about for ages, things I shouldn't be thinking about now.

Like the way we met – that race where we drew, at the age of six.

Or the day my dad gave me a lecture on boyfriends when I was nine and my mom patiently explaining to him that I was a bit young to be going out with Kayn.

The winter where we made a snowman and I accidently crushed it. So I made another one to make up for it, only to find he'd done the same.

Him standing up for me when Ruby Livan bullied me, when I was eleven.

Hearing his mom had died. Feeling hurt that he'd blocked me out of his life.

Introducing him to Gleam, Ayla and Calem.

Going to him when Geld dumped me because I wouldn't sleep with him. He wanted to know why I went to him and not Gleam or any of the others. I didn't know why. I still don't.

I shake my head furiously. I can't remember that. He's not like that now. I'm not like that now. We're different people. We have to be. Even if we're Jewel and Kayn we're not. We're just not.

I break into a run and soon, I'm concentrating only on that. I hate running though (it doesn't help that my leg is aching from last night), and I stop after about half an hour. I'm the world's least motivated tribute. Although, as there's only two of us left now, I guess that's not hard to be. At least I can't have third place.

I wish I could control my thoughts but I can't: that triggers off something else in me; I remember Hulde talking about how coming second was a bit like coming last. I guess it is, sort of. But then she said she wouldn't mind coming last. That's crazy. I'm not losing now. I'm too close to keeping my promises. I finger Gleam's ring. I refuse to come second now. I won't be last. I'm always first. That's how it'll be today.

That 'talk' was so motivational, I feel like doing a cheer to go with it. What am I, I wonder. A sports coach?

Well, I might be next year, sort of.

To take my mind off my new career (how many of them have I gone through in the past few weeks anyway?) I decide to refill my water bottle in the nearby stream. I notice that it's become a trickle. Maybe that's a sign of something though I don't know what. I probably have two options – I could sit here and ruminate on all sorts of reasons why the water is drying up or I could just have a drink and keep walking. I go for the second option.

A few hours after midday, I start to recognise the area I'm in. I've definitely been here before. In fact, over there is the bush which Rashnid used to demonstrate how the lake monster jumps out and eats people.

I feel a sudden pang as I remember Rashnid. In my head, I see him laughing at me and teasing me.

Best to keep going.

There are more and more thorn bushes around here. I'm being forced in a particular direction now. And I think I know where I'm going. Which is a new one for me.

Sure enough, I walk into an area I recognise. There are thorn bushes on two sides. If I look through the clear side, I can see more in the distance. And I can see a figure walking towards me. I stop. This is where I'm meant to be.

It's the place where we saw the girl from District 6. Looking around, I realise that she must have been here for most of the Games. Behind a particularly monstrous bush, I can see the opening to a cave. There's a pond to my right. There are all sorts of berries and signs of wildlife. She probably only walked around occasionally and we must have caught her out in the open. Then she had to flee. I realise she probably doubled around us and fled downhill. How else did Kayn catch her? Unless he didn't and she died through something else…

"Jewel," a familiar voice says in surprise. "I'm fighting you."

I turn around. His face is terrible. The side I hurt is scarred horribly and his eye looks bloodshot. He makes no move towards me.

"No need to sound so surprised," I mutter.

He smirks and a feeling of unease sets in over me. "Sorry, Jewel. I thought Hulde would have won the fight between you. Unless she died in another-"

"No, I won," I tell him.

He nods. "And who killed Rashnid and Jak? Or did the boy from Ten get Rashnid?"

"Why are you so curious?"

He shrugs. "Why not?"

This is wrong. Something's wrong. But what?

"Rashnid got killed by Korosh," I confirm. "Jak tried to murder me. Hulde killed him."

Kayn shakes his head. "Jak was a strange person. Wasn't himself."

Kayn doesn't seem normal either, I think.

"You killed District 6?" I ask for the sake of asking.

"Yes. She was a bloody strong fighter though." He points to a cut in his shirt. "She gave me this. But," and now his voice is more menacing, "you gave me these." He indicates his scars. "And I swore to kill you."

"Yeah, I've made a lot of promises too," I reply casually.

He shrugs. "Promises were made to be broken."

"So you're _not_ going to kill me?" I ask mockingly, because the truth is, he's freaking me out and I don't want him or the audience to know. "Very kind of you."

"_Your_ promises," he hisses.

"Why mine?"

"You know how I've lived for the last few days? Trying not to die. I'm lucky I have good sponsors. I barely survived. And it's your fault."

"You would have preferred to die?" I'm sure that if I keep talking, something good will happen. But the truth is: I don't want to talk so much. I just want this to finish.

He glares at me. "Shut up."

"When did I ever listen to what you told me to do?" I enquire before I can stop myself. For a moment, amusement flits across his face but then he scowls again. I feel better, somehow.

"It's just us now, Jewel. One more competition between us. Winner takes all. The money, the glory, going home. Everything."

And all the pain and misery and deaths I can't help adding to myself. I guess Hulde got to me more than I thought.

"True," I say instead. "But you know how it is. First tribute of Panem, first winner."

"You wish."

"Yeah."

He smirks again and looks me in the eye. I don't like this anymore.

"Guess this is it, Jewel," he says and draws his sword. I hold my mace up.

"One more competition?"

"May the best one win."

He grins and swings his sword towards me. I hop backwards. Again, it occurs to me just how much I ache. I've gotten used to moving in pain but my legs sting from these sudden movements. This will be a hard battle. But I knew that anyway.

His sword flashes forwards again, slicing my arm. I reciprocate by dragging my mace along his. It doesn't matter how much I get injured now. As long as he dies first, I'll be fine.

I swing my mace towards his face. He blocks me, shouting, "Not again, Jewel. You won't get me again."

I break free of the hold. "Bet you that's one of the last things you say," I call back, unsure as to why we've decided to have a mid-battle conversation but I can't show weakness now.

"Bet you your life it isn't," he hisses and swings his sword towards the top of my head. I drop and roll to the side before leaping up, trying to surprise him with an attack to his stomach. I don't say anything now – better to focus my mind, right?

He smiles viciously and slashes at my right shoulder, tearing a large chunk of flesh out. I yell in pain. He uses this advantage to crash into me. Blearily, trying to focus through the ache, I hold my mace out and rip downwards on his chest. He yells too and moves back from me.

The pain in my shoulder is all-consuming. It fills my thoughts, my feelings, my body. I can't concentrate. How can I? Even glancing at my shoulder, I'm sickened by the red stain.

"Horrible, isn't it, Jewel?" Kayn cackles. "Now you know how we all felt. Is that how Hulde looked?"

I breathe deeply, trying not to vomit. I don't want to answer him. How can he be so happy? He's barely noticed the wound I gave him.

I try to smile at him. If there's one thing I've learnt here, it's not to show when you hurt. Not to predators like me and Kayn.

He lunges at me again. I block him, trying to ignore the pain in my shoulder. The tip of his blade still manages to dash across my stomach, giving me another cut. He laughs as I back away. It's scary how much he's enjoying this.

Is this what I looked like?

Desperately, I leap forward, trying my usual 'quick-blows' tactic but he blocks all of them with apparent ease. Then he does the same thing back and I'm much slower in responding. I barely manage the last blow and I close my eyes as the sword gives me a deep cut on my side. But it's not life-threatening. Yet.

"Can't you do any better?" he taunts. "This is too easy."

I give up and headbutt him in the stomach. It's not a strong blow but it surprises him and he staggers backwards.

"This … any better?" I gasp, trying to ignore the feeling of bloodloss.

In response, he punches me. I'm taken by surprise but I'm much weaker than he is and I fall over. Swiftly, he ducks down and plucks my mace from my grasp then straddles me, stopping my arms from moving.

"Just like old times, isn't it, Jewel?" he taunts me softly. "I win."

His smile is scary. Through a haze of pain, I look in his eyes. This isn't Kayn. Kayn would have let me keep my mace. Kayn would never have enjoyed himself so much.

"Answer me," he orders.

He's snapped. He's lost himself completely. Not so much that a casual observer would notice, but I can. This is the person I'm so close to becoming.

Do I want that?

I remember Hulde talking about being last. About how it gave you more peace than being the winner. I want that peace, so much. I want to look at myself and like who I am. But I don't want to lose. I don't want to die and never see my friends and family again.

What do I want?

"Answer!" he roars. I immediately stiffen up, refusing to show weakness even now.

If it's like old times, thenhe's won in a place of strength and I must have won in a place of skill. And it's true. After all, I haven't lost my mind. Yet.

"Exactly like old times," I reply.

He laughs delightedly. "And now you've lost, Jewel. Second place."

Which is just like coming last in Hulde's books.

I shift slightly, trying to get some advantage over him. But the movement makes me dizzy and he notices and clamps my arms to me, forcing my fingers into the wound in my side. Panic sets in. How can I win? How can I keep my promises?

"Still fighting, Jewel?" he asks mockingly. "I could just stay here and watch you bleed to death, you know."

I say nothing. If I speak, I think I'll let everyone know how frightened I am. I can't do that.

"Looks like I'll go back to all the money and honour and glory. After all, what else is there to fight for?"

He's mocking my interview now. Hatred pulses through me and then vanishes. I don't hate Kayn. I hate who he's become. The old Kayn would have said the same thing but not in the same way.

I try to kick him, thinking that if I can just get him off-guard, I'll be up and fighting (despite my wounds). It doesn't work.

"I don't know," I answer, just to get him to shut up.

"And what will you have left?"

I stare at him. He thumps me.

"Answer!"

"Just kill me if you're going to," I say quietly.

He regards me curiously. I don't say anything else. If this was Kayn, I would speak. But it isn't. I don't know who this is.

A feeling of irony hits me. I'm the person who complains so much about always being first. And now, I'm not. At the one time when it's so important to be first, I'm not. I'm second. I'm last.

_I promise if I get picked I'll come home. Even if I have to hijack one of those hovercrafts, I'll turn up at the door and ask you for dinner._

I struggle wildly again, thinking of Dad, Pearl and Mom. I promised to come home. I promised I'd ask them for dinner. And I'm not giving up.

He grabs my head and holds it to the ground. There's no compassion in his eyes. He's not human.

_"Don't go crazy though," adds Calem._

More memories.

_"We need our District Idiot back in one piece."_

I haven't gone crazy. I don't think I have. At least I've still got compassion. At least I'm still an idiot.

"Nothing to say?" Kayn mocks. "That's a new one."

_"It's a promise. You promise to get this ring back to me, OK?"_

We all know what she means.

"I promise."

"Good." She hands me the ring and I hold it.

"Actually," I say quietly, and now I feel like crying, "do me a favour, OK, Kayn?" I look at him directly, trying to appeal to the better nature he once had. "You see the ring on my left finger? Take … take it back. Give it to Gleam. I promised her I'd give it back."

Because I promised to go home. And I will. As a dead body. Even if I don't like the idea, even if it terrifies me, I know that's how this is ending.

I promised to fight Kayn fairly. I did. He didn't. But he never promised back, did he?

I promised not to go crazy. And maybe it's better it ends this way, before I can.

And I promised to get that ring back.

Kayn studies me and for a moment, I see a flicker of who he was in his eyes. A smile from the boy he used to be appears on his face. A sad one.

"Of course I will, Jewel," he whispers to me. "I swear it."

He moves backwards slightly, takes my hand and gently pulls the ring off. I wait until he has and then I struggle again, just to try. Instantly, the snarl of the new boy comes back and he thumps me. Hard.

"Any last words?" he sneers.

And then it hits me. I'm going to die. Now. But at the same time that I'm dying, I'm also free. I'm not the puppet of the Gamemakers. I'm not someone I don't have to be. I'm just me again. I can feel sad that I've killed so many people. I can be scared. I can change back. This is the end of the line.

I never have to pretend I don't care about anyone anymore. No one is going to be treating me like a monster or a saviour for something I hated. I'll be at peace.

I grin out of relief and regard him carefully. "Last words?" I ask and my voice is trembling from fear but there's still amusement in it because it's such a clichéd line. "Wow, thanks, Kayn. I mean, anyone in the world could pick the last words ever and you've given the choice to me. I'm amazed. Thank you."

He stares at me. "Always the joker," he says slowly. "You're still the same, aren't you, Jewel?"

I grin at him. "Yep. I never change."

He shrugs. "If you say so. Goodbye, Jewel. Just remember: I win!"

He draws a knife and plunges it into my chest. It's like nothing I've ever felt before. It's fire and … ice and pain all mixed into one. I'm dying. I can feel it.

Is this what it is, then?

I see Hulde and Rashnid walking toward me … hand in hand. Behind them, Skira comes … smiling slightly. Jak lounges casually by … a tree. All the tributes from the arena …

Korosh, the brother and sister, the girl from 12. They're all smiling … and waving. And I can see them as people now …

and not … the objects Liss said they were. I don't have to … be someone … I'm not.. I don't have to … change. I'm not the winner … I don't have to be …

inhuman. I can be …sorry for what … I've done and …

I can be sad about it … or happy for … no reason.

I can be … myself.

Kayn is whooping and … cheering in the glory … of being first.

But Rashnid and … Hulde have reached me and … are tugging me … Hulde is smiling, at peace …

Skira …hands me a … flower. A flower like velvet. Like a … consolation prize.

I allow … them to pull me … up …

and as I … follow them, I also … smile. For, like Hulde, I too …

know the peace … of mind …

that comes …

with … being …

last.****

Fin

* * *

****

A/n: I would like to apologise for misleading you about when this story would end (by putting up a false update day). I did this because I wanted to keep this ending secret for as long as possible and this meant I had to make it seem as though there would be another chapter.

I would also like to thank everyone who took the time to read this story and who put it on favourites, alerts and reviewed it. This all meant a lot to me. I hope you enjoyed this story as much as I enjoyed writing it and I hope you aren't mad about how it ended. I know a lot of people wanted Jewel to win (and you have no idea how many times I've nearly deleted this entire chapter and re-written it to make it so) but there were several reasons why that couldn't be the ending.

So, anyway, thank you all very much. This has been one of my favourite stories to write and you've all made it worthwhile. Geth.


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